Life is But A Dream
by Lythdan Megend
Summary: AU When Sirius passes through the veil, he ends up in the Realm of Dreams. He manages to wake up. Not only does he wake up, it’s the 30th of October 1981. The past fourteen years…have never happened. He has a chance. Will it all be for naught?
1. I Row, Row, Row Your Boat

A/N Hey, this story has been on a hiatus on my old account for over a year. I deleted it from that old account, so don't go looking for it there. I am glad to say that I am now writing the story again and I fully intend on finishing it this time.

**Life Is But A Dream** by _Lythdan Megend_

_Row, row, row your boat,_

_Gently down the stream. _

_Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily. _

_Life is but a dream. _

**I. Row, Row, Row, Your Boat **

Sirius saw the spell hit him. It was only a stunner. All it could possibly do was knock him unconscious. He would only miss out on the battle. He awaited the unconsciousness, but it never came. He was confused, but figured he would get knocked out when his head hit the cold stone floor.

But that never happened either. Instead, he felt himself fall backward, through some sort of material. I've fallen through a curtain, he thought to himself. But his head didn't hit the floor on the other side of the curtain. Nor did it fall on top of him. There wasn't even a wall. He saw Bellatrix, his cousin, laughing at him. He saw Harry and Remus. Harry looked in his direction and yelled, "SIRIUS!" He saw his black hair, his skinny, small, frame, and his emerald green eyes. There was a look of shock on his face that Sirius could not understand. What was so scary? All that would happen was that he would hit his head on the floor, and someone would revive him later. Remus came and put his arm around Harry. Sirius fell completely backwards, and he could see the ceiling of the Department of Mysteries. Then the view disappeared.

And then…there was nothing. Well, technically not nothing, it was pitch black, as if he was looking at the back of his eyelids. Where had the Department of Mysteries gone? He couldn't see an inch in front of his face. He waved his hand around. Well, he tried to. He didn't have any hands.

"It's like someone spilled the insides of my head into a black, lightless pit," he mused silently. He would have spoken out loud, but a voice required a body.

"I guess it is a bit like that…" a voice beside him spoke (spoke?). "It's quite boring. So dark and lonely…"

Sirius was surprised. There was someone here with him! He looked around, but all he saw was darkness…and more darkness.

"Where are you?" he spoke in his mind. Would there be an answer? Was this some sort of hallucination? Had he struck his head on the floor too hard when he fell? Did he even fall?

"I am everywhere," the voice replied. Sirius decided by the tone of this 'voice' that it was female. Not that it mattered. Were there any differences between men and woman that weren't…well…physical?

"Are you…God?" he asked, mystified.

Whatever answer he anticipated, it was not the other person laughing hysterically. If she had a body, she would have been slapping a knee. "No, no…" she replied. "I'm just everywhere here, beyond the veil. Just like you are. My spirit is everywhere. It has no physical shape or form in this realm. Just like yours."

If Sirius had an eyebrow, he would have raised it. "So let me get this straight. We are 'beyond the veil'. We are in some sort of different realm. We have no physical bodies. But…where are we?"

The female tutted. "We're in the land of dreams. The land beyond the veil."

"The land of dreams? But…how do we escape?"

"Escape?" she asked, as if Sirius had asked something amusing. "No one escapes from the land of dreams."

"The land of dreams?" Sirius asked, confused. "What better way to escape a dream than wake up?"

The woman sighed. "If it was that easy, why would I still be here. That's how you escape a normal dream. That's how you escape the realm of dreams on the other side. This is the side of the Dead."

"I-I'm…" Sirius stuttered weakly, "I'm dead?"

"There's no other way you can be here."

"B-but…isn't there meant to be some sort of after-life? Somewhere we can go and live happily ever after?"

"There is. We just have to get there."

Sirius could not understand how this woman could be there and speak so calmly about death. He was dead! Dead was a term used for not breathing, which he wasn't, not thinking, which he was. "So how do we get out of here?"

"There is no escape!" the woman said hotly. She paused. "Unless…do you see that river?"

This woman was a loony, Sirius deduced. There was no river…there wasn't anything! There was darkness, and there was her. Sirius was ready to think that she was some figment of his imagination. This couldn't possibly be all true. Dreams, death, all in a day? More like a nightmare.

"I guess it isn't much of a river," she pondered, "It's more like a stream. Or is it? I can't really decide."

"I don't see a river. I don't see anything," he told her.

"Look."

"I am looking!" Sirius exclaimed angrily. "There's nothing there, I can't see anything! I can't say anything; I can't hear anything apart from your voice. How can we hear and speak to one another anyway?"

"You're trying to see. Take a step back and look. You have to look for the sock under your bed before you can see it."

"I can't believe this," he said disbelievingly.

"Then you may as well not try. The first step to seeing is believing."

"How can you believe in something that's not there?" he asked.

"This may sound like a silly question, but do you believe in magic?"

"What does that have to do with anything? Of course I believe in magic. There's proof it exists."

The woman sighed sadly. "You have a lot to learn. Maybe this is a better question, do you believe in fate?"

"Well…" Sirius hesitated, wondering how much he should tell this woman. He realised it didn't matter. She was dead. Like him. "I guess I do believe in fate."

"Do you then, perhaps, think you were fated to be here, and to go down the stream?" she asked cryptically.

"I guess it's possible."

"Then try. Just imagine the stream. It's there. All you have to do is look for it. I know you can do it."

"How can you have so much faith in me?" he asked.

"You managed to speak to me. You must have looked for me, subconsciously at the least.

Sirius gazed at the darkness. Then he found it. The stream. He heard it before he actually saw it. The sound of slowly flowing water. Then he saw the blue fresh water stream. It was slightly unnerving how it had appeared out of nowhere, and was the only coloured thing he could see in the darkness. And on the side of the river, there was a boat. A wooden boat, complete with a set of oars.

"Maybe you will be able to cross the stream, and wake up. I have tried, many, many times, but I am always unsuccessful. Be careful not to get lost, or you may end up not in the wrong place, but in the wrong time."

"Do you think I can make it?" he asked.

"You never know if you don't try."

"Who are you, anyway? How did you get here?" he asked her as his spirit clambered into the boat.

"I came to be here in a similar way you did. No, I did not come through the veil, but I came because of a spell went awry. It's what you think that makes you stay. You have the will to escape, while I do not. I am not a strong-willed person, and I fear I will be here for a long time yet.

The boat had started to float slowly down the stream. "And if you ever get lost, remember the name Monday Lovegood and you'll find your way back."

"Lovegood? Are you Luna's mother?" Sirius shouted back at her as it got faster. He could hear wind in his ears, which confused him. How could there be wind if there was no air?

Monday sighed. "Luna was my daughter. I miss her every moment that goes by. But the reason I cannot escape is because I am scared of going back. I scared at how many things will have changed, what will happen to my family. That's why I can't leave. You, though, are strong spirited. And I don't even know your name," she only whispered, but somehow Sirius caught every word.

"I'M SIRIUS!" he shouted, "SIRIUS BLACK!"

"There is no need to shout. You and I are both everywhere. Even though in the rules of science, two things should not exist in the same space at the same time. But magic defies the laws of science everyday. So I guess it doesn't matter. You're about to leave, and when you leave I can no longer help you. You will be on your own."

Sirius nodded, the water was getting much faster now, and the oars were quite unnecessary. "It was nice meeting you, Monday, maybe I'll see you again," he said looking at the darkness. She was everywhere.

He turned the corner, and was hit with colors. He saw colors. The grass was green, the sky was blue. The boat was brown…and most important of all…he had a body. He looked down and saw he was wearing his black robes. He examined one of his hands. It was there, and he flexed his fingers. His legs were bent underneath him and felt numb. He decided to stretch them out, so he stood up. Big mistake to make in a small boat.

The boat over turned, throwing Sirius headfirst into the clear blue water of the river. It was so cold against his skin he felt like it was on fire. He tried to surface for air, forgetting that there was no oxygen up there and he didn't need it anyway. Except he couldn't move. He could feel himself breathing in water…he was drowning! How could he die if he was already dead? His head swam as he inhaled more water. His limbs shuddered and he could feel himself stop breathing. He kept sinking, down and down and down. The water was deep. It was almost bottomless. In one last burst of energy, he closed his eyes. If this was the end, he didn't want to see it. He closed his eyes for just one more sleep. Maybe Monday was right. Maybe he would wake up.

* * *

"Uncy Padfoo'!" someone sitting on his stomach exclaimed. "Uncy Padfoo', wake up!" he shouted, poking Sirius in the eye. This caused Sirius to gasp in pain and open both his eyes in surprise.

When he opened his eyes, he knew something was wrong. On his stomach sat a healthy fifteen-month old boy with very familiar messy jet-black hair, and unforgettable emerald green eyes. He was wearing a bib decorated in various baby foods.

He was looking into the eyes of a baby Harry James Potter. He had woken up alright. He had woken up in the wrong decade. And he sure wasn't dead.


	2. II Gently Down the Stream

A/N Initially I wasn't going to update this today, but I made considerable progress with some of the later chapters of the story and thought, why not? Thanks to those who have reviewed so far, I truly appreciate any forms of feedback. Concrit is good too!

**Life Is But A Dream** _by Lythdan Megend_

_Row, row, row, your boat,_

_Gently down the stream._

_Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily._

_Life is but a dream._

**II. Gently Down the Stream…**

Sirius jumped off the couch, and was holding Harry closely to his chest, when he heard the front door unlock. He pulled his wand out of his pocket and aimed it at the door. Through the lounge room door walked in James Potter, his friend. His dead best friend was standing in front of him.

"James! I missed you so much!" Sirius exclaimed the words without thinking, as he hugged James.

"Miss!" Harry shrieked happily, clapping his hands.

"You saw him two hours ago," said another voice. The owner of this voice stepped into the house, lugging in shopping bags containing enough food to last for three years. She brushed her dark red hair out of her face with her sleeve and set the bags down inside the door. "We've come back from the meeting, Sirius," she said briskly. "Jones was kind enough to buy us all this food." She eyed the numerous shopping bags with a critical eye. "Why so many cans of baked beans?" she asked herself quietly.

"Lily…" He didn't know what was going on. Seething with frustration, he let out a strangled cry as he dug his heels into the bottom of the couch, collapsing onto it. She looked at him curiously; her emerald green eyes looked confused. "Are you sure you didn't just have a bad dream?"

"Oh, yes," he replied sarcastically, "It was a fantastic dream. The best dream I've had in a long time."

James walked in and took Harry carefully off Sirius. While tickling Harry's chin, he stated, "It was only a nightmare."

"It's the most bloody realistic dream I've ever had," he said, rubbing his head with his hand. He was in the lounge room of Lily and James's house in Godric's Hollow. There were a few potted plants scattered around. He saw a calendar on the wall. October had a picture of a Golden Snitch, its wings fluttering madly. He read the date. _30th October 1981._

"It's not right! It's not right!" he yelled, as he leapt off the couch again. He ran to the calendar, and lifted his arms up to it. He wanted to rip it off the wall, scrunch it into a ball and jump and stomp on it, as if doing so would declare it invalid.

Before he could do so however, James laid a steadying hand on his shoulder, hazel eyes showing concern. "Are you alright there, mate?'

James sat down on the couch, in the space that was previously occupied by Sirius and beckoned him to come sit down next to him. He sat Harry on the floor. Harry toddled off on unsteady legs, walking to his mother. He fell down countless times, but got up again and kept going. He went down to his hands and knees crawled into the small space underneath the kitchen table. Sirius did not accept this silent offer, and remained standing with his arms crossed.

As Lily knelt down on her hands and knees to try to coax Harry out from under the table, James turned to look at Sirius.

"So tell us about this dream of yours," he said, watching in tight-lipped amusement as Harry avoided all of Lily's attempts.

"You're dead," he declared simply, turning his head away from James's piercing gaze. "You're dead," he echoed.

In the space of five seconds, he came to a conclusion. Those years in Azkaban that apparently never happened had addled his brain. There. That was a better explanation for all this madness. He was in Azkaban; this whole thing was a nightmare.

James waved his hand in front of Sirius's face. Lily was bustling around in the kitchen with the thirty-something shopping bags.

"You're dead," Sirius said shortly.

James took in an exaggerated breath of air. "Nope, still breathing…seriously, Sirius, what's wrong?"

"Switch Secret Keepers back to me," he stated bluntly, as Harry played with his shoelace.

"Why?" James asked curiously. "A week ago you agreed that using Peter was for the best."

"Peter's the traitor!" he exclaimed. "Don't you see? It was the perfect plot. I mean, we thought that no one would ever guess we would think he had anything to do with well, anything. He wants to hurt us, all of us! You, me, Lily, Harry…Harry. You have to protect him, James. You can't let that traitorous bastard harm him!"

Lily lifted her head up. Using a handy spell she had learnt in _Household Charms: Fifth Edition_ putting away the groceries had taken a remarkably short time. She bit her lower lip. "Only a nightmare. It is natural to have nightmares. I have some of them myself…" she trailed off, gulped and continued "…and in those nightmares I come home and I see the Dark Mark hovering above my house…so I enter…and I see everyone's bodies lying on the floor, and they're all dead…looking at the ceiling with their eyes wide open… " Lily shuddered.

"People change, James!"

"You've being doing a lot of it today," observed James. He picked up the stuffed Quaffle off the floor and started throwing it up in the air. Harry ran unsteadily to his father, and stretched his arms as high as he could reach, attempting to catch the fuzzy, red ball. It went right past his out stretched hands and fell on his feet. He blinked at the ball, picked it up in his small, chubby hands, and threw it into the air once more.

"I'm just thinking…why don't we see how Peter is doing? We've only really spoken to him twice in the past few months, Harry's birthday and..." Sirius asked, a plan forming in his mind.

Unfortunately, James knew him too well. "You're thinking about going to Peter's to look for 'evidence'," James accused as he stood up. His hazel eyes glared at Sirius, but he felt less fury, but more fear.

"No…"

James raised an eyebrow.

"All right. I do. But I'm also concerned about why Peter hasn't been in contact with us ever since he went into hiding last month." Sirius said. This was true. It was what had led to find Peter's empty flat in his 'dream'.

"I don't think this is a great idea…" James said uncertainly.

"I think it's a good idea." Lily spoke up. Looking at the disbelieving look from her husband, she quickly added, "Checking up on Peter, I mean, not 'looking for evidence'. We have the portkey, the one that's charmed to go between our houses. You and Sirius can use that. I'll stay here with Harry."

James looked with amazement at his wife. She wasn't supposed to agree with him! "All right. But what happens if Peter's not home when we go, but turns up while we're 'looking for evidence'? What then?" James asked.

Sirius moved his trainers up to the couch. "I have a plan," he stated simply as he undid the knot in his shoelaces, disconnecting his trainers from each other.

Lily sat down on the couch were James had been minutes before. Harry was in her arms; she had picked him up after the Quaffle had landed on his head. The beige-coloured couch had some shoeprints on it. She dusted them off. "This 'plan' better not be like the time when the Quidditch team nearly ruined the Gryffindor common room in their post-game party. Remember when McGonagall turned up, you said the Giant Squid had appeared and started flailing its tentacles everywhere." She smiled, and absent-mindedly stroked Harry's messy dark hair.

"Hey!" Sirius exclaimed hotly. "How was I supposed to know she wouldn't believe me?"

"Hmm…" Lily pondered, a finger resting on the side of her forehead. "Maybe because squids live in _water_?"

"Let's get going then," James said, interrupting their conversation. "Where's the Portkey?" He seemed in a desperate rush to prove Sirius wrong. "I still think this is a bad idea, since we're meant to be in hiding and all…" he trailed off.

"You went to the Order meeting today," Sirius pointed out.

"Well, yeah, Professor, I mean, Albus, requested our presence! He told us that there was some information he needed to make us aware of!"

"You could have let me have gone to collect the information for you, instead of leaving me to baby-sit!" Sirius shouted.

"Wow, have I just heard a logical explanation from Sirius Black?" James commented sarcastically.

"Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit!"

"It's the only form of wit."

"Stop fighting this instant!" Lily yelled as she pointed her wand. She aimed at the exact position where if she wanted to cast a curse, she could hit either of them without moving her arm. She had set Harry down on the floor, who was playing with his Quaffle, oblivious to Uncle Padfoot and his father's yelling.

James stopped in alarm. The last time Lily Potter yelled that at him, he had ended up with green and silver hair and a week's worth of detentions.

Sirius turned to Lily. There was some kind of fire burning in her emerald green eyes, and she looked determined. He was sure that she wouldn't hesitate to hex James if she thought he deserved it.

"Fine." James gave in. "I'll do it, but only to prove…"

Lily slipped her hand into the pocket of her skirt and withdrew some house keys. There were also a few key rings. For a few minutes, she struggled to get it off the ring, then realised she didn't need to. She handed the keys to James. Sirius studied the key ring in James's hand. It was a miniscule phoenix, with red and gold plumage.

"What are the activation words again?" James asked. He felt strange. Why was he even doing this! Peter was not going to betray them. That would mean he was a…Death Eater. Not Peter. The man was too scared to speak Voldemort's name, let alone meet him face to face. Peter was not a traitor.

"It's the Hogwarts school motto. James, darling, please, please, promise me you'll be careful."

"I will, Lily flower." He kissed Lily on the cheek. He knelt down and ruffled Harry's hair.

"Say good-bye to Daddy, Harry," Lily instructed her son.

Harry's green eyes clouded. "Daddy go bye-bye?" he asked, looking curiously up at his father. How could a baby be so cute, yet look so unhappy at the same time?

"Not for long. I'll be back before you know it," he said this mainly for Lily's benefit rather than Harry's.

Sirius put his hand in James's so he could hold onto the phoenix as well. "_Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus_," he muttered under his breath.

Sirius felt the familiar spinning of a Portkey; similar to that Muggle clothes-washing device he had learnt about in Muggle Studies. What was it called again? Oh yes, that was right. It was a washing machine.

They landed in the darkness of Peter's flat. Sirius lost his balance and fell over, right onto a small table with a vase on it. It fell to the floor, and Sirius heard it shatter into millions of little pieces. Sirius winced. If Peter were home, he would have definitely have heard.

No one ran into the bedroom. Sirius breathed a sigh of relief. Peter wasn't there. Good. Wherever he was, he was probably kissing the hem of Voldemort's robe and worshipping the ground he walked on.

"So where do you suggest we start this sleuthing, Padfoot?" James's temper had bettered. He had to know. Sirius had planted the seed of doubt in his mind, now he needed to know the answer.

"Lumos." Sirius's wand lit up, letting out a beam of light. They were in Peter's bedroom. There were clothes littering the floor, as there would be in most households with a man living on their own. The bed was unmade. In the corner with his desk, there was parchment littering the floor. Sirius walked over, James following uncertainly.

He grabbed one of the scrunched up balls of parchment on the floor. He opened it. It was entitled- 'Problems with Thin Bottomed Cauldrons'. It looked like a recent report for his job at the Ministry. No luck there.

"Merlin's beard, no!" James whispered silently, his voice quavering. He had lit his own wand tip, and had followed Sirius's example and had read a piece of parchment.

_James, Sirius and Remus, _

_I don't know how to say this, and it's a pretty stupid idea because I know I won't have the courage to send it. But people say that it's easier to handle things if you write them down, so…here goes nothing._

_I never meant for things to get like this. I never really meant to join the Dark Lord. But I did, and I can't change it now. But if I had a chance…I would have taken it all back. Sometimes I hope that it was all a dream…some sort of nightmare…my life…but then I realised that I would never have met the greatest friends I have had in my whole life._

_I'm always so scared…you have to understand…the Dark Lord's taking over, what is to be gained by defying him, you're going to die! And it will all be my fault— _

The letter cut off there; Peter had not finished it. James was shaking. Sirius wasn't sure if it was fury or disbelief. "You're right, Padfoot," he whispered, "You were right…Peter was going to betray us…" he gulped, and he looked like he was trying his hardest not to cry. "Dammit! WH--" James was interrupted by another beam of light shining into his eyes, by two people who had arrived at the bedroom door. The wand light illuminated their faces.

Severus Snape and Peter Pettigrew. Both of them were wearing their black Death Eater robes and had their white masks hanging around their necks.

"J-James," Peter stuttered in surprise.

"Potter," Snape spat.

"Snivellus," James replied coolly. He turned to look at Peter. In the pale wandlight, the short, mousy-haired, young man looked much older. "Peter…how could you?" he said weakly, as if he was still disbelieving the plausibility of it all.

"How did you know?" he asked. Suddenly the older man was gone, and in its place was a confused little boy.

"Well, rat," Sirius lashed out with more ferocity than he thought he could ever feel, "One, your wearing your Death Eater robes, two, you just walked in with Snape of all people, and three, we saw your letter." He grabbed a handful of Peter's robes and did not know how he refrained from strangling the rat.

Peter's already pale face paled even further, yet he did not speak. Snape did however. "I am not a Death Eater," he hissed to Sirius and James.

"Your robes contradict that." Sirius pointed out, gesturing to Snape's Death Eater wear with his free hand. Peter squirmed slightly, and Sirius dropped him to the floor. He landed with a thud, stood up gingerly, drew out his wand and pointed it at nowhere in particular.

"You don't understand, Black, you're an innocent. There isn't only light and dark, there are varying shades of grey."

Snape sighed, and then turned to Peter. "When is the Dark Lord meant to come?"

"He said he would be coming tonight…that way I can divulge the information to him in person..." The look on his face showed that he was being pulled between two fears, what the Dark Lord was going to do to him, and what Sirius was going to do to him.

Sirius took two steps to the spot where Peter stood, trying not to let the fear show in his eyes. He failed.

Peter looked panicky, and for good reason, and it wasn't the mess and clutter in the house. "When he is coming?" he asked, turning to look at Snape, whose face was hidden behind a curtain of black, greasy hair.

"He's already come," hissed a voice behind Peter. Standing in the doorway was a man, with soulless red eyes and slits for nostrils. _Who else could it be_? Sirius thought. It was none other than Lord Voldemort.


	3. III Merrily, Merrily, Merrily, Merrily

A/N Thanks to those who reviewed :)

**Life Is But A Dream** _by Lythdan Megend_

_Row, row, row your boat,_

_Gently down the stream._

_Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily,_

_Life is but a dream._

**III. Merrily, Merrily, Merrily, Merrily.**

"_Accio wands_!"

The two wands flew out of the grasps of their owners, and into Voldemort's outstretched hand. He let out a cruel, chilling laugh as he pocketed the wands in his robes.

Sirius breathed through his nose heavily. Why was this happening? This wasn't a dream, this was a nightmare! He could hear James, also breathing loudly next to him. James had lost his wand as well. His arms were shaking, but he did his best to try and keep them steady.

Voldemort turned to Peter who inclined his head towards his master. "M-my L-lord," he murmured. Snape did the same.

Voldemort waited until Peter had stood up again, before saying lazily, "Your services are no longer required, but your hard work will be recognized." There was no question as to what this statement meant.

Peter backed slightly further away from Voldemort. "I-I thought y-you needed H-Harry!" he stuttered, nearly tripping over as he walked backwards over himself.

"You dare question your Lord?" Voldemort asked, he walked closer to Peter, and drew his wand from within his robes. "Maybe I should put it in terms your brain will understand. I need the Potter's hiding place…" his scarlet eyes travelled to where James was standing, and he smirked, "…but I no longer need you to come with me. I wish to do this alone."

"Yes, my Lord." Peter bowed his head. "I understand." Peter scuttled away from his master.

"I also cannot have you betray me." Voldemort continued, lazily flicking his wand at some pieces of loose parchment and setting them alight. Snape was shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot, still trying to hide, probably not wanting to attract his master's attention and facing his wrath.

Peter backed even further away in alarm. His watery blue eyes widened in surprise. "I would never betray you!" he exclaimed, nearly tripping over the hem of his black Death Eater robes.

There was a silence. The only sounds they heard were the ticking of a cheap, plastic clock and the rumble of thunder in the distance. Voldemort idly waved his wand at the walls of the room, and Sirius knew what he was doing.

Voldemort was soundproofing the room. His blood red eyes glittered with malice as he finished his charm and turned to face Sirius and James. "It just would not do to let the Muggle scum hear your screams."

"Since when have you cared about Muggles?" James asked hotly, his face clearly showing his intense dislike for the dark wizard's attitude towards Muggles.

Voldemort stared at James for a few brief seconds. "There will only be five deaths tonight," he stated confidently, twirling his yew wand between his long white fingers.

"How can you be so sure?" James replied angrily, looking more flustered by the moment.

The smirk on Voldemort's face showed that he did not think that such a question needed an answer, because it should have been readily apparent what the answer would be.

"The Dark Lord knows everything," Snape declared, stepping out of his spot in the shadowed corner.

"You filthy Gryffindor muggle-lovers will die tonight, begging for Lord Voldemort's mercy!" A cruel smile played across Voldemort's lips at this moment, as his pale hands stopped weaving his wand in between his fingers. The wand was now pointed directly at Sirius's chest.

Sirius felt his blood boil. How could he just remain there and not do anything? Before he knew what he was doing, he ran towards Voldemort, with every intention to head butt the smirking crocodile. He hadn't even made half the distance before he heard Voldemort scream out "_Crucio_!"

It was pain beyond pain. White hot knives were stabbing him everywhere they could reach. His screams became not his own, but those of someone else, or so it seemed. When it ended, it felt like it had been years. In reality, it most possibly had not even been a minute.

"Now, now, Black, this is no time to be falling back on old Muggle tricks just because you, unlike me, are incompetent in the area of wandless magic. I will have to…_punish_…you for that little misdemeanour. "_Incarcerous_." Slender cords erupted out of the end of Voldemort's wand, and wrapped around Sirius's arms and legs, binding them together. A grunt from the other side of the room had told him that James had received a similar treatment.

Sirius struggled to sit in a position where he could get a better look at James, but a hand forced his face to the floor. Snape had snuck up behind him. Sirius cursed under his breath.

"How does it feel to be the losing side for once, Black?" Snape whispered into his ear. The pressure on the back of his head was alleviated as Snape went to resume his place beside Voldemort. A tense silence ensued.

James was the first to speak. "We thought you'd never betray _us_, Peter." The smoke from the burning parchment was getting thicker, the greenish-red magical flame was curling up the leg of the chair of the wooden desk, and it caught fire too. Sirius coughed, and held his sleeve up to his nose. If only he had held onto his wand tighter! He could at least have performed a Bubble Head charm! How pathetic would it to be to die of smoke inhalation?

"I never meant for it to happen, James, I really didn't!" Peter squeaked, backing away even further, and doing a half turn, so his back was facing Sirius.

"Of course you didn't mean it to happen. That's why it did happen of course. You couldn't do anything right…not even at school…" James lamented bitterly.

Sirius could see the beads of sweat slipping down Peter's forehead. "You don't understand! The Dark Lord is everywhere! What good could have come out of defying him? He could crush us like flobberworms in a cabbage patch!"

"Friendship is not just about enjoying the good times together, but fighting through the worst times together as well. I'm sorry we couldn't teach you that."

Sirius frowned. This was not how he and James were going to die, lying on the floor at the feet of a traitor, a childhood enemy, and the most feared wizard in Britain. He struggled to sit up again, and finally managed to do so, panting as he rested his head against the wall.

"I do not have time to listen to the reminisces of childhood…friends. Tell me the name of the residence. We have to attack today…otherwise Mr Potter's untimely death may be some sort of warning to his Mudblood wife that something had gone _tragically_ wrong." A cruel grin unfurled on Voldemort's face as he said this, implying that James may as well be already dead.

Sirius coughed, some more of the smoke from the burning corner of the room had come into his lungs. This whole thing was ridiculous. All they had to do was lock them in the room and they would probably die a horrible, fiery death anyway.

A look of annoyance crossed James's face. He wiped his glasses with the sleeve of his robes. "I'm right here you know," he said irritably.

Voldemort turned to look at him; his red eyes, the colour of blood, danced with anticipation of a new murder. "If I were you, Mr Potter, which I certainly would not want to be, I would rather not draw attention to that fact. I cannot kill you if I do not know you are here. It's good you've finally drawn back on that Gryffindor 'courage' you so admire. You've escaped me three times, and that number is not going to rise in the near or far future."

James looked from the burning corner of the room to Voldemort's menacing face, to Snape's indifferent one, to Peter's scared, pale one, then his eyes finally rested on Sirius. "Why?" he scoffed.

"Why_ what_, Potter?" Voldemort sneered. Peter was still standing in front of Sirius, and it took all of his self-control not to throttle him.

"Why won't that number rise to four?" James replied as he nervously eyed the desk again. "You said it yourself. I've defied you three times, I can do it again," he said confidently.

The fire was showing no signs of stopping.

Voldemort didn't reply to James, as if realising he was wasting time. "Tell me now, Peter." He walked towards Peter, his wand drawn and pointing directly at him. "Prove you loyalty to me."

Peter backed away even further, nearly squashing Sirius against the wall. "I…" His words were drowned out in a rumble of thunder.

More silence. This was not merely tense silence, but _dangerous _silence. It seemed to entail threats more than mere words could ever do. Peter stood there, shaking, not sure of what to do. Voldemort had the wand…

Sirius looked at the orange clock on the wall to avoid his hands balling into fists whenever he thought about Peter. The flames licked towards it. He saw both the little hand and the big hand reach the number twelve. It was the thirty-first of October and he had not gotten very far at all. In fact, he had gone backwards.

Voldemort obviously took Peter's silence as defiance. "You dare defy me?" Voldemort asked. "I won't hesitate to drag it out by force--"

"Severus!" he exclaimed, turning to Snape. "You are the example of one who has done well in my service. Your information has led me to this day, when those, who are…prophesised…to defeat me, will be defeated!" He turned his head to Peter's snivelling form. "Would you like to do the honours?"

Snape bowed his head, some of his greasy black hair falling in front of his face. "Yes, my Lord." He drew his wand out and yelled, "_CRUCIO_!"

Voldemort's eyes glittered as Peter's screams filled the air. They just listened. They heard the sound of Peter's screams and the rumble of thunder outside. They heard the sound of rain slapping the windows. And yet, there seemed to be silence. Finally, James yelled, "STOP IT!" His hands were balled up into fists. "He doesn't deserve it!"

Voldemort turned to Snape. "I think you would do well to stop," he said, "An insane Peter Pettigrew would not be able to tell us the location of the dwelling of the Potters."

Snape lifted the curse, but there seemed to be a malicious glint in his eyes, which suggested that he didn't want to stop.

"I-It's…in Godric's…Hollow…" Peter breathed out. "It doesn't have an…actual address, but…you can get there by Floo Powder. You…just have to say "The Potters, Godric's…Hallow…" He tried to sit up, but his limbs trembled and he fell back down again.

Voldemort's eyes traveled to the window, and he smirked as he eyed the weather with disdain. He turned back to Peter, trembling and blubbering at Sirius's feet. "I think you have outlived your purpose, Peter."

"You're going to kill me?" Peter asked horrified. "But I have been a good servant; it was I who told you where to find the Potters! It was me!" he yelled, his voice now holding a hysterical note in it.

"If he didn't, I would, you rat," Sirius spat.

If it were possible, Peter looked even more terrified. "You wouldn't…your best friend…" he trailed off, quailing under the furious look Sirius had given him.

The irrational urge to punch Peter's face in struck Sirius at that time, but the binds that held his hands behind his back made it impossible to do so. But Peter was right in front of him…no Harry to save him now…

"You're a traitor, Pettigrew, that much is obvious. You've managed to attract the attention of both sides, and it's bad enough when one wants you dead!" Snape yelled.

"I know what I'm doing!" He squealed as a bolt of lightening clapped close to the window. The flames had licked away at nearly a wall of the house. Sirius was silently cursing under his breath. He needed to get out of here; he needed to do something…anything.

"Don't do it, Sirius!" James exclaimed, his hazel eyes pleading at him. "You wouldn't kill one of your friends…"

"I haven't done anything!" he said furiously. "I thought I had a chance, a chance to change it all, the things that are going to happen in the future…he," he nodded in Peter's direction, "is the reason I spent twelve years in Azkaban."

"Sirius," James whispered, "it was a dream." His eyes were clouded over. He looked scared, and Sirius just knew that James was restraining himself from trying to stand up and punch Voldemort right in the face. But running to their death wasn't advisable in this situation, or really possible. Particularly because Sirius reckoned this situation didn't even exist.

"I don't think it was…" he trailed off. He rubbed his chin, and to his astonishment, he had some stubble there. He had known for a fact he had shaved yesterday, under Remus's suggestion, but had this Sirius Black shaved recently?

"I don't have all night to watch some blood-traitors bicker," Voldemort hissed, and then turned to Peter. "As you may know," he said, his high, cold voice putting fear into the depths of everyone's stomachs, "Lord Voldemort does not appreciate traitors." He looked around the room his eyes looked at James and Sirius's faces, "and neither does anyone else, apparently. But rest assured, if I wanted you killed immediately, you would already be dead."

Peter let out a small whimper and his eyes watered, and he tried again to stand up and he managed to get up onto his feet. He swayed on the spot slightly, but did not fall over.

Sirius was starting to feel dizzy, the smoke was getting thicker. He struggled to feel his pockets. Would the Portkey take them back to James's house? He wouldn't be able to reach it even if he could remember what happened to it. A Droobles Best Blowing Gum wrapper fell out of his pocket.

"Of course, it has been fifteen minutes, and your time is up. Unless you decide to go through with one more betrayal...if you can draw your wand and kill him, I know you loyalty lies with me. However if you don't, I know you still consider him…Black, your friend….you have five seconds to make your choice...will you murder your best friend and side with Lord Voldemort, the most powerful wizard in the world, or will you side with them, the 'Light' side, consisting of Mudbloods and blood-traitors?"

Voldemort seemed to be the only one unaffected by the smoke. He probably wasn't human enough to die from such normal means. Sirius could envision the _Daily Prophet _article in his mind. _He Who Must Not Be Named Dead From Smoke Inhalation_! He snorted aloud. Snape had the corner of his robes wrapped around his nose and mouth, and was taking short breaths. James was leaning against the wall, looking rather faint and pale, and he, Sirius, was sitting in a peculiar position, where he could feel Harry's child sized Quaffle in his pocket through the material of his robes.

Peter drew his wand, his hand shaking, his eyes facing downwards. Sirius couldn't believe it. Not that it mattered, if Peter didn't kill him, Voldemort would.

Peter faced Sirius, and pointed his wand at Sirius's chest. Sirius felt his breath get caught in his throat. Surely…surely Peter wouldn't kill him? But…he had killed all those Muggles, just to frame Sirius.

"_Av-ava_-" Peter stuttered with the words of the curse.

Sirius tried to sit up straighter, and stand up. If he had to die, he would rather like to be standing up.

"_Avada Kedavra_!"

As soon as Sirius heard those words, he wriggled on the floor, doing anything he could to move out of the way.

That's when he realised that the curse wasn't Peter's and it wasn't coming towards him.

The green jet of light hit Peter in the back, and his body crumpled to the ground as if in slow motion.

Voldemort's eyes glittered evilly. "He took too long," he said softly. "When Lord Voldemort tells you he wants something done, it means it is to be done immediately."

Snape, who had not been doing much during the last few exchanges, apart from giving Sirius and James a few contemptuous looks, walked over to Peter's body and sneered.

Sirius had the doomed feeling that none of them were going to make it out alive. They hadn't the first time round. Well, Peter lived...but forced hiding as a rat could not be called living anymore than being locked in a dingy cell in Azkaban could.

They had both been prisoners.

Sirius heard a few hacking coughs from James, and Sirius saw that he was trying not to cry, but was failing. James was staring straight ahead, trying to comprehend, to understand what had happened, but he was failing at that too. One of his best friends had turned out to be a spy who had betrayed James's family. It was too much for him.

Voldemort smirked at the sight of Peter's sprawled body and turned his wand to Sirius. "Now it's your turn."


	4. IV Don't Forget to Scream

A/N: Just a quick note that this story was written pre DH and thus may not be completely DH compliant.

**Life Is But a Dream** by _Lythdan Megend_

_Row, row, row your boat,_

_Gently down the stream._

_If you see a crocodile,_

_Don't forget to scream._

**Chapter IV: Don't Forget to Scream**

"No, no…" James muttered faintly, sinking as low as one could when their wrists and ankles were bound together.

"Yes, yes," Voldemort countered mockingly, his red eyes glittering with the blood of a recent murder illuminated in them, and the gleam of what murders were to come.

"It's not true…it can't be true…" James muttered faintly. He cast a look around the room as if hoping that one of its occupants would assure him that this was all a horrible nightmare, and not true at all. James wriggled away from the burning desk, coughing as he did so.

"You don't think your little friend here;" Voldemort pointed his wand to where Peter lay, "had it in him, did you?"

Getting redder in the face by the second, James answered, "What sort of question is that? Of course I didn't! Peter is my friend…was my friend…" he finished sadly. His glasses slipped a bit down his nose as he lowered his head.

"We all did," Sirius reassured him. "The rat had us all fooled."

His eyes flickered to the corner of the room that James was close to. He saw a photo on a cabinet of the four of them…Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs on the last day of seventh year. They were standing under a large tree on the Hogwarts school grounds, arms around each other. Peter was in the middle. _Let it burn_, Sirius thought bitterly. The room was starting to burn more…Sirius wondered if the Muggles would notice.

"It's all very touching," Voldemort said patronisingly, his wand now aimed at James. "There are too many Mudbloods and filth still walking this earth for me to stay here for too long." The corner of Voldemort's mouth curled, and his spider like fingers tightened around the handle of his wand.

"You stay away from my family!" James yelled, trying to jump up. The binds around his ankles caused him to topple forwards in a most undignified position instead. He fell face first at Snape's feet, the impact causing a 'flump' on the carpet.

"So, Potter, is this how it ends? With you groveling at my feet?" Snape sneered, his cold black eyes shimmering. "I thought I'd never see the day…not so cocky now, are you?" he asked softly.

Voldemort let out a laugh. It was not a laugh of humour, but one of irony. "I don't think, Potter, that you are in any position to be making demands." His wand was still pointed at James' heart.

"You leave Harry and Lily alone," Sirius growled. "Isn't it a little pathetic to be attacking women and children? And you call yourself a great wizard!"

A twisted half-smile played on Voldemort's face. "Why yes, Black, I do. It is I who will remove all those unworthy from ever walking this earth again."

"That's funny," Sirius replied angrily. "I don't see you removing yourself." His hands curled up into fists as well as they could. "Need some help?" he asked nastily.

"I thought you learnt your lesson last time, Black," Voldemort replied maliciously. "Perhaps you need to be taught again…I do not mind. I like to hear the screams."

Sirius braced himself for what was sure to come.

"_Crucio_."

He was in agony. Being placed under the Torture Curse twice in one night was a horrible thing to even imagine. He withered on the floor, screaming, the binds hurting as his joints strained against them…

"Yes, yes, that shall do." The curse was lifted. The pain had left Sirius panting slightly.

"Ow!" he exclaimed, as something kicked him on the head. That 'something' turned out to be Snape's boot. Snape expertly hid his foot inside his robes again.

Voldemort's gaze flickered to the orange clock; the flames were starting to near it. Sirius, James and Snape looked at it too, wondering what had captured the Dark Lord's interest.

"I think I have overstayed my welcome," Voldemort said softly. His wand twirled in his fingers again.

Sirius cursed under his breath. He smashed his hands against the wall, in the feeble hope that the enchanted ropes would break, but the ropes were reinforced with magic and would not snap so easily.

"I understand that you and Black have some, ah, what shall we call it…_history_?" Voldemort had turned to face Snape, his red eyes meeting Snape's black ones.

"Yes, my Lord," Snape murmured.

"Then, perhaps, you would like to do the honours."

"Why, are you too chicken to kill me yourself?" The words yet again jumped out of Sirius's mouth before he could think.

"Ah, no, Black, it is just that I do not concern myself with lesser mortals. In fact, I would consider that I am doing you a favor, as I could leave you here…" he waved one arm around, indicating the burning portions of the room, "…and let you be devoured by the flames." Voldemort turned to Snape. "Severus."

A sneer unfurled upon Snape's pallid face.

Sirius banged his hands against the wall frantically, the binds still refused to break. This was useless. All he had achieved were a pair of sore hands.

"_Avada Kedavra_!" He desperately tried to jump up, away from the curse, but his feet were still tied together and he fell right into the curse's path.

There was blinding green light. Then there was darkness.

* * *

Everything was dark.

He opened his eyes...or did he? He wasn't sure. He recognised the place. He was back in here, in the Realm of Dreams. The blue slow moving stream down the middle, surrounded by…nothing. Where were the vibrant colours he had seen before he had fallen in the river? He did not know. It was as if someone had planted a stream and its banks in the middle of a deserted galaxy. The binds on his arms and feet fell off as if they had never even existed.

Then Sirius realised it wasn't deserted. He saw someone in a hunched sitting position on the bank. She was wearing a set of pyjamas, plain white ones which were a size too big for her. Her lank, stringy blonde hair fell all the way down her back. She was barefoot, and she turned her head and he could see her crying. But somehow, and he wasn't sure how, he knew it was Monday.

He started to approach her, but he saw someone move in the corner of his eye. He turned around, and he couldn't help but let out a gasp of surprise. He gasped, but for some reason the sound didn't carry in the air. Hadn't he and Monday conversed, the first time in the Realm? But that was before, in the nothingness, and he thought it was telepathic. Maybe the Realm was in outer space? Sound didn't carry in space, did it? And there was no oxygen, but he didn't need to breathe, did he? But didn't space have stars? The night sky had stars.

He was completely and utterly confused. Maybe he should have listened when Lily had gone into one of her scientific rants. Before discovering magic, Lily Evans had liked science. For the ten years Sirius had known her, she had been trying to prove that magic followed some law of science. When she couldn't find an answer, she claimed the scientific theory hadn't been discovered yet.

He turned to look at the people he had seen, making sure they weren't some hallucination brought on from the fire smoke. To make sure the Realm wasn't a hallucination in itself. But no, Peter Pettigrew and James Potter were standing a few metres away from him. Torn between wanting to help Monday and talking to his friends, he stood still. The funny thing was that he had a physical body on this side, but he was floating in mid air. And how had his friends gotten here in the first place? They hadn't fallen through the Veil…

"PRONGS!" he yelled," GET OVER HERE!" He spoke the words aloud. But he didn't hear them himself, so how were James and Peter meant to hear? How come he could telepathically talk to Monday? Maybe the trick was to think the words, like when one used a non-verbal spell.

"Prongs," he thought in his mind, "Come over here."

"Padfoot?" James's voice responded in his mind. "Is that you?"

"Yeah, it's me. Come over here."

James glided to Sirius, and Peter trailed about ten feet behind him. Sirius looked at Peter with slight disgust. James glanced in Monday's direction. Taking in the image of the crying blonde, he asked, "Who is she?"

"Yeah, who is she?" Peter echoed.

"That's Monday," Sirius answered, looking at her quivering back "I met her the first time I was in this place."

"You've been here before?" James asked. He looked around, taking in the darkness encompassing them and the stream. "How did you get here?"

"I died," Sirius stated simply, "That's about as much as I under--" He was interrupted by a bellow in his mind.

"BLACK!" someone yelled within him. "WHAT TRICK HAVE YOU PULLED THIS TIME? WHEN I GET TO YOU--"

Sirius turned. He wasn't sure where the speaker was, though he had a slight inkling he might know who it was. Rotating three hundred and sixty degrees, he found the speaker standing in front of him, wand drawn. His lank, greasy hair framed his long, pallid face complete with hooked nose. James had already found him and was looking at him with utter hatred. It was beyond schoolboy enmity now.

"It's your fault I'm here, Snivellus," Sirius said bitterly. "If you hadn't killed me, I wouldn't be here!" he continued angrily. "Did you die too?"

Snape stared at Sirius for a few seconds, and Sirius felt it would have been better if Snape had refused to answer his question outright. He was making him extremely uncomfortable. After a few excruciating minutes (as that was what it seemed like), Snape graced his question with an answer. "The Dark Lord found he no longer had a need for me," he replied silkily. "And," he continued, nodding at James, "Potter, you'll be glad to know your Mudblood wife is safe. She was no longer there when we attacked your place of residence. Nor was the brat this whole mess surrounds."

James visibly paled. "You wanted to attack my family..." he whispered. "I'LL KILL YOU!" he suddenly shouted, lunging for Snape's neck. Snape stepped aside, and James lost his balance and fell. This looked even more ridiculous then it would in normal circumstances because he looked like he was treading water in mid-air.

"I believe the Dark Lord has already had that pleasure."

James sputtered, and glided into a more dignified position. "It could be possible to die twice..." James muttered, reaching for the place where his wand would be. It hadn't reappeared. "How'd you like to be the first?"

"Sorry, Prongs, I think that position was taken by me." Sirius put a hand on his friend's shoulder. Turning to face Snape, he added menacingly, "How about second?"

"He would've killed Lily, and Harry too!" James fumed.

"Hexing him will get us nowhere in this situation." The speaker was not Sirius, but Peter. "I don't like it when people fight."

Sirius turned to his former friend. "Yes," he said scathingly. "That's why you became a Death Eater. Because you don't like it when people fight."

Peter's face changed. It looked more like he did on that fateful day that had given Sirius a life sentence in Azkaban. "I only wanted to be happy," he whispered. "All I ever wanted was to be secure."

"And taking on a spy position makes you secure, does it?" James asked enquiringly. "Does it make you feel big, does it make you feel secure, that you helped cause the deaths of people...even some of your closest friends?"

"Stop it..." Peter squealed. The three of them surrounded him. "You're just like _him_!" he accused.

"Just like who?" James asked, shocked. "Like Voldemort? How dare you say a thing like that?" His hands scrunched into fists.

"Don't say the name!" Snape and Peter shouted at the same time.

After Peter regained his breath, he continued, "When you were at school, you used to bully people…people like me…then you became my friend…"

Snape turned his back for a few seconds as if a contemplating something. Without turning back around, he said evenly, "The Dark Lord has no friends. Nor as do I."

Someone tapped him on the shoulder. He wheeled around. Monday was standing behind their group. Her tears seem to have subsided, but her eyes were still red and swollen. "Is this not a conversation I should get involved in?" she asked, rubbing her eyes.

"What's wrong, Monday?" Sirius asked the blonde woman, a little bit cautious of her. How had she known so much about this place, the Realm...how long had she been here exactly?

Her voice sounded a little uneven. "I-I t-tried to cross the stream, but couldn't bring myself into the boat! I dream…of drowning. I… saw someone who nearly drowned once, but he was saved. And do you know what I did? I just stood…and _watched_."

Sirius frowned. He had nearly drowned the year before he had started Hogwarts. He didn't know how to swim. He couldn't have saved anyone who was drowning, either. Even now, he barely knew how to keep afloat as a human. As a dog, swimming seemed as natural as breathing.

Abruptly, Sirius changed the subject. Monday seemed to know a lot about the veil. She would be able to answer his question. "How did they," he jerked his thumb in the direction of Snape, Peter and James, "get here?"

Monday did not look Sirius in the eyes. "There is some sort of enchantment, where if one who passes through the veil dies again, then ones who they have a very strong relationship with, negative or positive, will pass into the Realm if they die in a close time frame with the one who originally passed through the veil." She was now looking Sirius straight in the eyes.

Frustrated, James ran a hand through his messy hair. "But how do you know so _much_?"

A curious smile played across Monday's lips when James asked this question. "I was an Unspeakable in the Department of Mysteries," she replied, her face still twisted into the odd smile. However, Sirius got the feeling that she was not telling the whole story.

James closed his eyes. "Merlin's beard! What a predicament we've gotten ourselves in. We have to get out of here...we have to change things back...I have to see Lily and Harry!" He turned to Monday. "How do we get out of here?"

"That way." Monday pointed to the direction that Sirius had come from the first time round.

"Are you crazy?" Sirius exclaimed. "That leads back to the inner Realm!"

"Look in the other direction." They followed her instruction. It seemed to appear out of nowhere. It was a mountain range. "It leads back to the mountains, the beginning of Time."

"So what is this? The river of Time? Are you crazy, woman?" Snape asked violently.

"The river of Time? No, no..." She laughed loudly. "This is the river of Hate. River Styx. Stream Styx? No, that doesn't sound right. Sirius's eyes widened. "Isn't that a myth? Isn't that in the underworld or something...separating the side of the living from the side of the dead?"

Monday sighed. "If you don't believe what's in front of your eyes, how could you believe in things that you can't see?"

"I thought River Styx was a river of hate or something," Peter added.

"Time spawns and feeds all hate." Monday glided to the riverbank. The four followed her. She untied the rope from its post. Holding onto the semi-burnt rope she looked in the direction she had first pointed in. "Every river must lead to sea. The sea must be that way. We're trying to get into the future. We can't go past the time about a week Sirius left though, because you can't enter a time that doesn't exist. The river lengthens over time," she explained at the confused glances the men were giving her. "The Realm is expanding."

"But why go into the future?" James asked. "Why not go into the past for a second chance to make everything right again?"

"_Do not mess with Time_," Monday hissed. "Don't you think you've messed things up enough already? Poor stream, having to change the way it flows just because you felt like you would just jump in!" She glared at Sirius.

Sirius held up his hands. "Sorry," he said through gritted teeth. "I didn't do it on _purpose_."

Monday stopped glaring and fiddled with a strand of hair. "Sorry," she said apologetically. "I did not mean to lose my temper like that." Squinting around at the men surrounding her, she added, "So what do you say? To the future?"

The four of them nodded. Traveling down a stream floating in the middle of what appeared to be the middle of nowhere. None of them wanted to be left behind. "We'll come." Sirius said, speaking for all of them. "We'll find our way back and we'll make everything right again...but for some reason it feels strange leaving here. It'll be like going into another dream. Nothing will be real..." he clambered into the rickety wooden boat. Snape, Peter and James followed him.

"Oh, but did you know what?" Monday asked as she climbed into rickety wooden boat, that was rocking slightly in the water. "Life is but a dream."


	5. V Belief

**Life is But A Dream** _by Lythdan Megend_

_Row, row, row your boat,_

_Gently down the stream._

_Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily,_

_Life is but a dream._

**V. Belief**

The five of them bunched together tightly so they could fit into the boat. Monday was right at the front, crouched down, still with the rope in her hand. They were so squashed that she couldn't even move her head to see if everyone was in.

Sirius, however, being the last one to board the vessel, could see the seating arrangements. Snape was behind Monday, and then Peter and James were directly in front of him. The sleeve of Monday's white pyjamas was ripped, the only part of her Sirius could see. He could see Snape's greasy, rarely washed hair bobbing behind Monday's arm, as he was the tallest of the five.

"All aboard?" Monday's voice was muffled. She waited for a few seconds and then nodded absent-mindedly to herself; she moved her right hand to the pole the boat was tied to and untied the hastily made knot securing the boat. She shifted her feet slightly to make sure the boat wasn't in immediate danger of capsizing (for falling into the stream too early would be rather disastrous) and the boat peacefully started to make its way downstream.

The occupants were silent for a few minutes, feeling the boat rock underneath their mass, looking forwards, to all the darkness. It made Sirius feel insignificant…like there was meant to be something more…something else…not just rivers, streams, boats and eccentric women. There was a purpose; there was a method behind this madness.

He just had to find it.

A few moments of this silence, then Peter piped up, "Where are we going?"

Sirius wished he knew the answer to that question too. Were they going forward, or was he going back? How different would the world be, if he had died back then? Would anything have changed? Or had he failed?

"Somewhere," Monday said vaguely, "The year is thought to be 1996."

The boat turned around the corner back to the start, or at least where Sirius had first started, where he had fallen into the veil. The colours were no longer around them. They were in the darkness. Even though it was possible to see the darkness from the colour place, you could not see the colour from the inner realm. Odd.

Sirius heard Monday curse silently under her breath. "We've gone too far. We're not meant to be this far in…"

Sirius yet again had the disconcerting feeling of not having a physical body. He was just…being. He was just there. The boat and stream, or river, or whatever it was, had disappeared underneath him.

"Bail out!" Monday said all-too-cheerfully. "We have to look for the stream again. We seem to have lost it."

"Bail out of what?" Snape asked. "I fail to see the purpose of exiting a vessel that I can not see, nor touch."

Monday seemed to ignore Snape's comment and asked idly, "Do you believe there are really such things as souls?"

There was another awkward silence. Finally, James mumbled, "Well…there are Dementors, and such…"

As if they were simply discussing a trivial matter over a cup of tea in a quaint, clean living room with lacy tablecloths and curtains to match, Monday replied, "Well I don't think that Dementors eat souls, per se; I think that they eat our memories."

Another prolonged silence occurred.

"…see, it's your memories that make you who you are. When you come across new situations in life, you look back at your memory to tackle them…memories define your personality…"

"And how do we go about searching for the stream?" Peter asked, but Sirius ignored him, and went ahead to ask his own question.

"Yes," Sirius replied to Monday's suggestion. "You're also one of those people who believes in Horned Sumpled Cornsacks, aren't you? Do we really have time to chatter about Dementors?"

Monday snorted with a snort that sounded like it came from some sort of wild pig than a human being. "I believe anything exists if you believe in it, and I believe the correct term is Crumple-Horned Snorkacks." Her eyes glazed over for a moment, as a smile crept upon her lips. "I believe we have all the time in the world."

Sirius believed that Monday Lovegood was a little touched in the head.

"So what about ghosts?" James asked. "Aren't they departments of imprinted souls or something?"

"Imprints of departed souls, Potter!"

"I didn't ask for your advice, Snivellus!"

Rattling on as though she had never been interrupted, Monday spoke. "My theory is that the soul is like a container that holds your memories, you lose this…and well…ever seen the victim of a Dementor's Kiss? Not a pretty sight. They lose function and deteriorate over time. They cannot even remember being potty trained as a child, which could possibly lead to a few - messy…accidents. However, that's not the issue here. The issue here is that we have to find the stream, so we can escape back to our rightful time. Whether the world will be as we know, is a slightly harder question to answer. Have you gotten out of that boat yet?"

"There is no boat, woman!" Snape shouted.

This answer obviously displeased Monday, as she snarled in reply "How do you know there is no boat there if you cannot see it?"

Without any warning the boat started rocking. Wait…the boat. Where had it come from? And the stream was back, lapping the sides of the boat. Suddenly, it was returning back where it had originated from. Even though it was starting off slow, Sirius had the feeling it would start gathering speed.

The problem was that James, Peter and Snape weren't in the boat. As they started floating backwards, James's voice rang from somewhere in the darkness, "You told us to get out of the boat, and it seems that we did!"

Monday's eyes widened. "As much as it pains me to say this, I was wrong. For now, get back into the boat! It seems that we have found the stream, at any rate. _Get in the boat_!"

"There is no boat!" Peter exclaimed fretfully. "You're deluding yourself! There's no boat! Just like there's no such thing as Santa Claus, the Tooth Fairy or the Easter Bunny! There is no boat!" he summarised.

"Sirius…you believe me…don't you? You saw the boat before…all of you did…why won't they believe…"

Something had clicked in his brain, and that something dimly made sense to him. "Monday," Sirius said determinedly, "The reason you see the boat is that you believe in it. Anything is possible if you believe in it…that's how we all saw the boat before…we all wanted to escape…and our belief was there. But as soon someone starts doubting, it is no longer there for them, and when someone starts doubting, they can no longer use it. That's why those three are not in the boat. They've stopped believing.

"I'm glad you understand, Sirius," Monday responded. "Unfortunately, _they_ don't."

At that moment, raised voices were heard from the darkness.

"I want to go home…I don't want to stay here," Peter whispered, and then added, "I believe. Do you two?"

"I'm not sure…" James muttered loudly, " I - I guess I do…I believe." There was a pause. "And besides, Padfoot will need all my help putting you back where you belong."

"Excuse me? Where I belong? We've been dead for the past fourteen years, or so everyone will think. I don't think that the Ministry will allow dead men to tell tales."

Their voices became quieter as the colours started drawing in their surrounds. They were back on the stream of Time. However, Sirius could faintly hear James's last sentence.

"Don't worry. You'll get yours, Peter."

The boat abruptly felt heavier, and with good reason. There were two additional people in it. James was glaring at Peter as if words could not describe the immense hatred he felt for him at that moment. Sirius would have adopted this glare, if he wasn't distracted by a rock that was becoming closer and closer. Sirius managed to catch a glimpse of a person kneeling on the rock. It was Snape.

"He's Doubt," Monday whispered, as if this explained everything. "I don't think he can see us. He hindered our progress, by not believing. Now, his disbelief will stop us going further."

"But…I thought we weren't meant to go further? Aren't we meant to go back to the latest possible day? Sometime in the summer of '96?"

Monday's face paled. "You expect _me_ to go in the water? I can't swim! I'll drown!"

The wind rushed past Sirius's ears as they started going faster. Noticing the rock looming up towards them, he smiled. "I don't think you're going to get a choice in the matter, Mon--"

He was unable to finish his sentence as the boat hit the rock at full speed. He was dumped into the river, and felt the familiar sensation of the freezing cold water burning his skin. He involuntarily struggled to the surface, before remembering he was supposed to drown. This was not going to be the end, and he knew it for sure this time. He shut his eyes. There was nothing but darkness.

Then he heard pounding in his ears, the sound of his thumping heart—he was _alive_. There was still a chance for them all. And as soon as he was alive, he collapsed, and welcomed the wave of unconsciousness that washed over him.

_June 1996_

Lily Potter was currently of the opinion that Monday Lockhart was insane. More insane than usual, that is. Monday was the Minister for Magic's rather…_odd_ newly wed wife, and also the Head Unspeakable at the Department of Mysteries, a title she had obtained two years ago. Monday had been working in the department for the last twenty years.

The last time Lily had the misfortune of having a conversation with Monday was back when Monday was a Lovegood and Lily was training to be an Unspeakable. The training had stopped when she had gone into hiding, and after That Night, she had never resumed it, instead taking up the Potions position at Hogwarts. They saw each other from time to time, but apart from a nod or a muttered hello, they had never really interacted.

Lily had grown accustomed to calling that night, 'That Night' over the last fourteen or so years since…everything had happened. Sirius had had some absolutely crazy nightmare and had followed some irrational urge to go to Peter's flat 'looking for evidence.'

And where did it get him? Dead. Where did it get her husband? Dead. Even though she knew it had been Voldemort who had taken away James's life, she still blamed the whole thing on Sirius. If only he had _thought_ about the _consequences_ instead of running rashly into things.

So when Monday Lockhart, wife to the rather charming Minister, Gilderoy Lockhart, had approached Lily four hours ago, she was a little surprised. After she had heard what Monday had to say, Lily was utterly flabbergasted. That Lockhart woman had to be playing some horrible joke on her. People did not just come back from the dead in real life. In reality, dead people tended to stay dead. Maybe a strong Confundus Charm was at work here? Monday Lockhart's brains were completely addled.

Seething with frustration and rage, Lily had slammed the door in her face. What had that woman been doing here, anyway? Didn't she have a honeymoon to be on? Didn't she have better things to do than fabricate completely untruthful stories and feed them to people who might find them upsetting?

Remembering what had happened earlier that morning, Lily pushed on the heavy wooden door forcefully, and her face reddened slightly when she remembered that she was meant to pull. She yanked the dusty knob towards herself, as the door opened inwar—

SMACK.

The door made contact with her face, sending her reeling into the bookshelf behind her. Luckily, the bookshelf was anchored down with a Reinforcement Charm, but it did not stop a few books from falling down, round where she sat on the cold stone floor, feeling a bit dizzy. She hoped no one was around to witness this rather embarrassing moment.

Unfortunately, luck was not on Lily's side today, as there had been someone else on the other side of the door. Perhaps that was why the impact had hurt so much. Remus Lupin had been pushing on her front door while she had been pulling.

Trying to clear her sight of all the nice, pretty stars twinkling in her vision, she shook her head viciously. Her hair had become quite a mess. She tucked a few wandering strands behind her ears, and tried her best to smile at her visitor. "Err, hello Remus. Sorry about the mess," she said apologetically as she knelt down, plucking a few books of the floor and putting them back on their rightful home in the bookshelf. Remus got onto his hands and knees, and helped Lily pick some of them up.

Once they were both upright again, Lily climbed upstairs to fetch the potion for Remus. Every month she brewed the Wolfsbane Potion for Remus, and he dropped by when he needed it in the summer. During the term, Lily delivered the potion to him.

She walked back downstairs with a smoking goblet, and went into the kitchen where she knew he would be sitting.

Harry was seated at the kitchen table next to Remus, writing an essay of some sort. He lifted his head up as Lily entered the room with the smoking goblet. "Hey, Mum."

"What's that for?" she asked, indicating the piece of parchment Harry was writing on.

"Defence Against the Dark Arts. Werewolves," Harry smiled at Remus, who was sitting next to him.

Remus tapped his fingers on the underside of the wooden table. "I got a rather peculiar visitor today," he said simply, looking Lily straight in the eyes. Lily understood that look. She glanced quickly out the window. It was a traditional warm summer's day, with not a single cloud in sight.

Lily smiled at Harry. "You've been working very hard at that essay, you know. Shouldn't you go outside, take a breath of fresh air for half an hour or so?"

Harry raised his head from his parchment and smiled at his mother as he set his eagle-feather quill down. "Are you trying to get rid of me?" he asked, green eyes narrowing.

Lily sighed. "Remus and I just want to discuss a matter of, ah- personal interest, and we'd probably bore you to death."

Harry grinned slowly at her. "Sure, I'll go, and leave you two _alone_. Is it all right if I take my broom out too?" he asked her, nearly tipping over his ink bottle in his eagerness to get outside and feel the wind whip around him and the summer sun beating down on the back of his neck. He ran to the door, looked back at his mother and said, "Ron's coming over today with Neville, isn't he?"

"Yes to both," Lily confirmed. "Ron and Neville aren't coming for another three hours, though. So go on, enjoy yourself!"

Harry didn't need telling twice; he raced out the door, grabbed his broom from the shed and within seconds had flown up a tall tree.

Remus, who had remained seated at the table during this exchange, frowned. "Was it really necessary to throw him out like that?"

Lily, growing more frustrated by the second, slammed the goblet of Wolfsbane Potion in front of Remus. A few droplets fell out, falling onto the table. Remus raised an eyebrow.

Forcing her voice to be calm, Lily enquired, "So I take it that you received a visit from that Lockhart woman too?"

Remus looked wounded. "I came here to pick up a potion and visit a friend. Does a tragedy have to occur for me to do that?"

Lily smiled weakly.

"But, yes, I was planning to come here today at the same time as Ron and Neville, as you very well know. I arrived three hours early so you knew something was amiss."

Lily fumed, resisting the urge to stamp her feet. "Can you believe the nerve of that woman?" Her angry emerald eyes flashed upon Remus's face. "I hope you slammed the door in her face!"

Remus, who was taking a sip out of his goblet, set it back down on the table. "Actually, I was quite interested in what she had to say."

Lily's eyes flashed angrily. "You mean after she told you about…J-him and Sirius, you simply allowed her inside the house? Is that it?"

"Well, I was a bit suspicious. I mean, I am not completely gullible."

Lily smiled sadly. "I know it's been hard, these years, but that's no reason to believe in completely fabricated fantasies."

"Anyway. As I was saying," Remus continued, rubbing his chin. "I let her in and made her a cup of tea." His other hand drummed a rhythm on the table.

"Did she like the tea?"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"It doesn't. Carry on."

Remus cleared his throat. "Before I was interrupted, I was saying that I made her a cup of tea. As we drank the tea, Monday told me about her mother's work. Apparently, there is this veil in the Department of Mysteries that no-one really knew much about. Monday's mother's research notes showed that to use the Veil, one must dream. She dedicated the last few years of her life to it."

Lily frowned. "What happened to her mother?" she asked.

"It comes up later. Let me continue."

Lily nodded, giving Remus her permission.

"So, Monday was intrigued by her mother's work and decided to continue it. Things went wrong and she was killed. Apparently, the Veil can be used after death as well, but in the end, you will always be dead. I think you have three chances, or so 'the mad Lockhart woman' told me."

Lily's eyes widened. "But she's never died before. At least, not when I can remember."

Remus smiled at Lily. "People generally die once. They don't usually come back to life after."

"An alternate reality, then? That sounds highly unlikely. Time turners can only go back a few hours." Lily absent-mindedly picked up Harry's quill and starting doodling on his werewolf essay with it.

"According to the notes, her mother changed something back in time. She once saw a boy, about ten, drowning in a river. His screams haunted her mind, so she went back to save him."

"That's bad."

"Is it really that bad to go back in time to save someone's life?" asked Remus.

"You could change the course of history by doing something like that!" Lily snapped.

"I didn't mean it like that."

"So, she saved him, went back to her own time…"

"And she had altered the world so much she had inadvertently brought around the circumstances of her own death. At least, that is what Monday managed to gather."

Lily wrinkled her nose. "That's a bit morbid."

Remus looked down at Harry's essay and frowned. "I don't think Harry's going to appreciate that."

Lily set the quill down and sighed. "On with the story, Remus."

"So, Monday's mother died, leaving Monday to unravel the mysteries of the veil on her own. As I said before, something went wrong and she died. Apparently, if you use the veil whilst still alive, you can swim around at your leisure."

Lily's brows furrowed. "Swim?"

"But if you are dead, you can only drown."

"That makes sense?"

Remus shrugged. "So, Monday was too afraid to test her own drowning theory after she died and became stuck in the veil."

"So?"

"She waited. It is hard to tell how much time goes by when your consciousness is floating in darkness, or so I was told."

"And then?" Lily asked quietly.

"Then someone fell through."

"Fell through?"

"The veil was in the Department of Mysteries…someone went through it…"

"Who?"

"Sirius," Remus stated sadly. "Monday says she talked to him in the veil, then she sent him on the way and then…he drowned."

"He drowned?"

"So he got sent back into the past. Do you remember any time that Sirius was acting…rather strangely?"

Lily's eyes widened and she sat bolt upright in her chair. "That Night."

Remus frowned. "What night?"

"The night that they…" Lily's voice wavered, and then lowered. "…died. Go on."

"That is when I told her to get out of my house," Remus said grimly.

"What did she do?" Lily asked curiously.

"As she walked out the house, she yelled back at me that there was no point running away from the truth, and that I could come over to her house and visit the four of them, if I wanted to."

"The four of them? Who came back, then, apart from - from…James and Sirius?

"I don't know. She was too busy obeying my wishes at that point in time."

Lily's face crumpled, and before she knew it, tears were squeezing out of her eyes and onto her cheeks. "Tell me what to do, Remus." She bit her lower lip down until it almost turned white. "Please." Worry lines were etched onto her forehead.

Remus put an arm around Lily's shoulders. "I'm sorry Lily, I don't know. But…"

"…but?"

"The truth will set you free."


	6. VI Sorry

**Life is But A Dream** _by Lythdan Megend._

_Row, row, row your boat,_

_Gently down the stream._

_Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily,_

_Life is but a dream._

**Chapter VI: Sorry**

_One Week Later_

Sirius's head felt like someone had left it in a Muggle blending device and left it on at full speed. The blood pounded in his ears. He was reminded of a summer's day at the beach, a seashell pressed to his ear. He thought he could hear the ocean, but when he told Lily about it later she had laughed and said he was only hearing his blood pumping through his body. He guessed that this was what he was listening to now.

The world was still dark, and for a moment he thought that he was still stuck in the Realm. But then he became aware of the soft sheets he was wrapped in; the warm bed he was lying on was very comfortable.

He felt as if he should tell someone that he was awake, but he couldn't even feel his tongue, let alone control it to form decipherable words. He tried to open his eyes to see where he was, but his eyelids refused to budge.

"Gilderoy, leave me alone!" a female voice said sharply. It sounded abnormally loud to Sirius, but he supposed that was due to his pounding headache.

"I am not mentally unstable!" the same voice yelled. Sirius wondered why the voice sounded so familiar.

"If you don't leave now, I'll hex you." The voice was filled with determination. Sirius had no doubt that whoever was speaking would carry out her threat.

A low male voice started speaking, most likely in response to the threats the female was throwing. "Oh, my dearest Monday, will you not tell me who hurt you so?"

_Monday. Of course._

Sirius wanted to do nothing more to jump off the bed and figure out what the hell was going on, but the various parts of his body that would have allowed him to do so were still not responding to him.

The male continued speaking. "I leave the cabin for twelve hours to speak to the _Daily Prophet_ about an upcoming press release and I come back to find you with three strange men in the room. Monday, darling, what am I meant to _think?"_

"Personally," Monday said scathingly, "I don't think you know how."

The man ignored this comment, and continued.

"Monday, I think that we should take you to St. Mungo's to get you looked at. You just haven't been acting at all like yourself this past week."

"We?" replied Monday's scathing voice. "I don't see anyone with you. Are you planning on dragging me in? There's a room full of witnesses you know."

"Yes, but they're all unconscious."

It was at this point in time where Sirius had regained enough control of his bodily functions to elicit a small groan.

"Not as unconscious as you think, Gilderoy."

Sirius felt his mouth being forced open and a bitter liquid was trickled down it. He coughed and gagged. "Ow," he said. His tongue felt as soft and useless as a marshmallow in his mouth.

"Welcome to the land of the living," Monday quipped. "Can you open your eyes?"

Sirius fluttered his eyelids. They refused to stay open. "Urgh," he muttered.

The male spoke again. "I will be back, Monday, you can count on it. If I have to involve Aurors in this to make you go to St. Mungo's, I will."

Sirius heard the door slam.

"I can't believe this," muttered Monday.

Sirius made a small affirmative grunting noise.

"Out of all incompetent and bumbling fools who could have been Minister for Magic, they just had to choose Gilderoy Lockhart."

"Lockhart!" Sirius shouted. Then he was amazed. He had just managed to say a full word. He was sure this was an achievement to be proud of.

"You know of him?"

Sirius wanted to rant at her, to tell her that the 'incompetent and bumbling fool' had nearly Obliviated Harry in his second year, how all his stories were stolen off other people, that in general, Gilderoy Lockhart was just a big fake. But all his energy had left him. He grunted again.

"If you want to know why you feel like this," Monday began chidingly, "it's because you messed with the natural order of time and this timeline had to reconstruct your body. That is why you have no energy to move and speak. I've had you three at my old house for the past week, but moved you all here today because Gilderoy kept asking where I was."

There was a rapping noise on the door. "I swear," Monday muttered, "if that's him back again, I'll send _him_ to St. Mungo's. I'm sick of being called dearest and darling all the time. I don't know what I was thinking when I married him…all right, I'm just going into the hallway to answer the door, Sirius."

Sirius wanted to point out that it wasn't really she who had married Lockhart, but lacked the energy to do so. He heard a soft creak as Monday opened the door.

"Oh, Mrs Potter. What a pleasant surprise. I didn't think you were ever going to come." He could hear Monday's voice clearly, even from the hallway.

Sirius's heart leaped in his chest. _Lily_? So Snape had not been lying in the Realm, Lily was still alive and safe. Had she come to visit them? Or did she have a bone to pick with Monday?

"What can I say?" Lily's voice was deadpan, as if she was trying her best to avoid any emotion leaking into her words. "You intrigued me."

"Well, I told you a week ago!" Monday exclaimed. "What took you so long?"

Sirius imagined he could hear Lily's temper flare. "What took me so long?" Lily shouted. "I've just had one of the worst weeks of my life!"

"I...I'm sorry to hear that," Monday said sincerely. "Would you like a cup of tea?"

"I…what? No, I don't want any tea! I want Harry! I want you to tell me where he is!"

"You want me to…what?" Monday sounded as if she had been caught off guard. "I don't know anyone called Harry."

"My _son_," Lily said icily.

"Oh."

"I think he must have overheard Remus and I talking about your little guests, who I am still not convinced actually exist. He was angry that we hadn't trusted him with the information and didn't talk to us for five days. Then I woke up in the morning and he was gone! He must have gotten some foolhardy plan in his head to go find his father by himself, and we haven't seen him since. We have no idea where he is! He could be hurt! This is all your fault, you spreading your malicious lies everywhere—"

"They're not lies," Monday said softly, so quietly that Sirius almost didn't hear her.

"And…what?" Lily sounded flustered.

"They're not lies. It's the truth."

"You…you mean…they are here? Who else is here apart from James and Sirius? I thought you had three people with you."

"I do," Monday replied. "The third person is the man you call Peter."

Sirius growled internally. The little rat had managed to live! He wondered if he could rectify that. He knew that James wanted to turn him over to the Ministry, but Sirius wasn't sure if the bungling oaf in charge would do little more than let the rat run free.

"Can…can I see them?" Lily asked.

Monday must have responded non-verbally, because the next thing Sirius heard was, "James? Sirius? I…need help." Lily's voice quavered and he felt something wet drop onto his eyelids.

This seemed to be the motivation his eyes need to finally open. His eyes did not seem well adjusted and the room looked blurry. He wondered if this is what the world looked like to Harry when he wasn't wearing his glasses. However, he was able to make out the shape of a bed across from him. Lily was bent over the other bed, crying.

Sirius's heart thudded. Something must be seriously wrong with Harry, and he was too weak to help. He hated himself then, for not being able to pick himself up and dust himself off, ready to fight another day immediately. He wanted to save Harry; he wanted to make sure he was all right. But he couldn't, and he was angry.

He focused his attention on speaking. "Lily?" he said hoarsely.

She spun around. Sirius looked at her. She looked different somehow. Then it struck him- she was older. He had never seen this older version of Lily, and this made him feel sad. "Sirius?" she questioned, her bright green eyes widening. "Is…is this real?"

Sirius wondered what the answer to that question. "…think so," he replied.

"Oh Sirius, I'm so so sorry." Sirius didn't know it was possible, but she started crying even harder. "I'm sorry that I didn't believe Mrs. Lockhart when I told her. I'm sorry I didn't come along with Remus to see you three days ago…I…"

"Remus?" Sirius asked.

Lily nodded. "He came here three days ago," she reiterated. "He wanted to see if you could tell him anything, but…you were all unconscious. I was busy trying to get Harry to speak to me, but he wouldn't…and then…then…Harry was gone…"

Harry had just disappeared without giving his family any warning? That didn't sound like the Harry he knew. Of course, this wasn't the Harry that Sirius knew. This was another Harry, who could be very different from the teenager he knew.

"Voldemort." Sirius wondered if he was involved somehow. He had no idea what had happened to the evil wizard in this timeline. Things were very, very different.

Lily looked at Sirius strangely. "No. It can't…can't be him. He's gone. He's been gone for ten years."

Sirius closed his eyes. Relief washed over him. He had been frightened for a moment that he had entered a world where Voldemort had been at large for fifteen years. Not that he was scared of Voldemort, but he was scared of how many people he could've killed in that time. How many people that Sirius knew, and loved. The first war had gone for five extra years here. But the second had not started yet. He was glad of that.

"How?" Sirius asked without opening his eyes. Had it happened differently here?

"Harry…" Lily's voice choked, "Harry has a small scar on his forehead. Shaped like a lightening bolt."

No differently then. Sirius wondered how that had happened, if Lily didn't die to save her son. But then he realised that it didn't matter why or how it occurred, just to be happy that it did.

"Sirius, what should I do? How can I find Harry?" Lily looked at Sirius pleadingly, as if she expected him to have all the answers.

"I'll help." He took in deep breath and tried his hardest to propel himself from the bed. This did not have the desired effect and he fell to the floor with a thump. The stone floor of the cabin was cool to the touch and not nearly as comfortable as the bed. He briefly wondered why a cabin would have a stone floor, then realised it had been Gilderoy Lockhart who had called it a cabin. Sirius supposed that this 'cabin' was in actuality a small mansion.

Lily almost smiled at Sirius. "I'm not quite sure you're in a position to help."

"I want to!" Sirius yelled sharply. He immediately wished he hadn't, as his throat felt quite sore and he wasn't sure he would be able to speak again.

"Sirius, look at this rationally. You can't even stand up. How are you meant to help me find Harry?" she asked kindly. "I just wanted to know if you had any advice. Remus is already searching some of the places he recently frequents, except that I don't really expect Remus to find Harry there, you know? I just get this feeling…that something bad has happened."

Sirius had a bad feeling that things were about to get a lot worse, and his perspective wasn't helped much by lying on the cold floor.

"Help me?" he asked Lily.

"Oh, sure." Using her wand she cast a quick charm at him and floated him harmlessly back on his bed. "How's that?"

"Better."

"I…think I should go…I really have to look for Harry. I'm sorry." She stood to leave when someone rapped on the door.

Sirius heard Monday open the door. "Oh, Gilderoy, you're back. I see you brought a few guests."

* * *

Harry Potter was not happy. He had been circling this forest on his broomstick for five hours now and there was still no sight of the cabin he supposed was meant to be there. Of course, the way Minister Lockhart's honeymoon cabin had been described in the _Daily Prophet_ it sounded more like a mini castle. Harry didn't know why he was looking for his father. He presumed that it gave him a sense of purpose if he had a goal in mind. If truth be told, he had just needed to get away from home for a while.

Neville and Ron had only stayed for a few hours. They had flown around in the field, and Harry had tried desperately to pretend everything was normal. He could not work up the enthusiasm he usually had for flying, though, and this concerned him. He had skulked around the house while his mum tried to speak to him. She told him that she was sorry for keeping secrets from him. She seemed to be apologising a lot lately.

Harry grew tired of flying around and landed a brief rest on the lush grass of a nearby meadow. He heard voices emerging from the woods, but he didn't let this concern him. He guessed that this might be a popular spot for Muggle families to have picnics. Harry wondered if he could ask them for some food. He hadn't managed to filch enough from the cupboards at home and he was worried if the supplies he had would last him longer than a few days.

He wasn't quite sure how long he intended to be hiding from his mother for. He was angry at her, but he was still worried that she would be extremely upset about his disappearance. He didn't want to hurt her, but he didn't really see how he had any choice. How could he be with her and pretend to be happy when he knew that she was keeping things from him?

The voices were louder now. Harry could hear the crunching of twigs as people stepped on them. There were people emerging from the forest now, into the meadow he was standing in. He watched them closely. One of them pulled out a wand. Harry gulped. Had he been found so quickly? Should he run? Or should he give himself up and let himself be returned to his mother? He was sick of running, and he didn't really want to have to beg strange wizards for food.

"Okay, okay, I give up. I'll go home now, I promise."

"I don't think that's going to happen, Potter."

Before Harry had a clear idea of what was going on, he had been hit with a non-verbal binding spell. He dropped his broom as the slender ropes tightened around his arms and legs. He struggled against them, but they only grew tighter. He should have known better then to run off into the woods. In fact, his mum had even warned him that their might be people who had it in for him after what he did to You-Know-Who when he was younger.

As five cloaked and masked people surrounded him in a small circle, Harry realised it was too late to start following his mother's advice. He wondered what would happen now. His mum would be driving herself completely insane with worry if he didn't come back soon. He hadn't really meant to leave home for too long. He hoped he got to see her again so he could apologise for being a stupid idiot.

Then one of the cloaked people hit him with a Stunner, and he thought no more.


	7. VII Tampering with Time

**A/N: **Only two chapters left after this one. I've actually pretty much finished the final one, it's the eighth one I'm having trouble with! Thought I'd better update this before I go on holiday, because I realise I haven't updated in a little while...and if you see any typos or anything else, please feel free to tell me in a review. I might have missed something, after all. :)

**Life is But A Dream** _by Lythdan Megend_

_Row, row, row your boat,_

_Gently down the stream._

_Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily,_

_Life is but a dream._

**VII: Tampering With Time**

Monday smiled belligerently at the Minister for Magic. In her hands she held a thick tome entitled: _Time-Traveler Tales: A Collection of Paradoxes_. Monday's pale blue eyes glinted hostilely as she stared Lockhart down. Lily thought that she looked rather violent.

"Get out," Monday spat, brandishing the heavy book. "I'm warning you."

Lockhart looked mildly sympathetic as he unrolled the parchment he was carrying in the crook of his arm. "I have your papers here for your admission into St Mungo's."

Monday let out a low hiss. "You can't do that."

"Well, actually, I can. I am your husband, Monday—"

"Which I deeply regret," Monday interjected.

"And I am quite concerned about your mental health and rightly so! I simply insist that you have a psychiatric evaluation done! I have even gone to the trouble of bringing these four fine Aurors with me to ensure that you do not overextend yourself too much!"

"I am perfectly fine and would be even more so if you just left me alone."

Lily withdrew from the corridor, shaking her head. "I don't know how long that will last," she muttered. "I have to get out of here soon, but I can't sneak through the front door when it is being blocked by four highly qualified Aurors and the Minister for Magic himself." She sighed, putting her head in her hands. "Does this house have a back exit?" she asked Sirius.

"Dunno," Sirius murmured.

Lily grimaced. "Stupid question, I know. You've only been awake a little while and have been confined to your bed the whole time apart from that short stint you did lying down on the floor. Can I climb out a window? How do I get out?"

"Big house," grunted Sirius. He still didn't have the energy to speak in full sentences.

"Yes, I am aware of the size of the house," snapped Lily. "I don't have the time to go through the masses of corridors looking for a door!"

"Apparate?" suggested Sirius.

Lily tapped a finger to her nose. "Now, why didn't you think of that earlier?"

Sirius shrugged, but due to the stiffness of his limbs, it was unnoticeable.

Lily gripped her wand and closed her eyes. Sirius expected there to be a crack, the usual sound of Disapparation. But there was nothing.

Lily opened her eyes, sighing. "This place must be warded. I didn't know. I took the bus most of the way here, because I'd never been here before." She started crying again.

"Oh, Sirius, I have to get out! I can't stand it anymore. I keep having images of Harry in my mind, images that scare me…he could be kidnapped or tortured and I wouldn't know! I realise that I shouldn't let these pictures run through my head…but I can't stop them…I…I thought that you would be able to help me…but then I came here and you were so weak…and James is still unconscious…I…I…forgot what I was going to say," breathed Lily. "I'm a horrible mother," Lily admitted, shuddering.

"NO!" Sirius shouted louder than he thought his vocal chords would allow him to.

Sirius heard Lockhart's voice from the hallway. "What are you doing to your guests, Monday? Why are they shouting? Is there something I should know about them?"

"No," replied Monday, "They're fine. All right, I agree that I have been acting differently lately, and I should be checked by a certified professional at St Mungo's. Unfortunately, I have prior commitments to deal with this week, but should be available this day next week. Is that soon enough for you?"

"I don't think that the terms are negotiable," Lockhart began.

"Well then, I'll come tomorrow. Just not today, I have to make sure that things are taken care of in my absence. Can we achieve a compromise like mature, responsible adults?"

"I guess," Lockhart said hesitantly. "We shall leave now, but you will most definitely be coming in tomorrow, whether you like it or not. My Aurors will certainly make sure of that." The door slammed.

Monday came into the room and let out a small sigh. "He's more irritating than I ever believed possible. I wanted more time…there's no way I can get everything done now."

Lily glared at her. "Well, it's lucky for you then that you have a _veil_ in the Department of Mysteries, then, so you can 'go back in time and get everything done'. What about me? What about Harry? Time is running out for us!"

Monday drew herself up to her full height, looking extremely exasperated. "How many times do I have to tell you that you cannot just simply tamper with time and hope that everything turns out all right? It's rather like mixing a group of random ingredients together and hoping that it'll turn into a cake!"

"I know the consequences!" Lily shouted. "I trained to be an Unspeakable, I know all this, and I know what will happen! I'll risk it anyway, because it's better than the alternative! Harry could be dead!"

"He might not be," Monday pointed out.

"So, what am I meant to do?" Lily said snappily. "Just wait a few days until Death Eaters send me Harry's pinky finger in the mail?" Tears streamed down her face now, she was not ashamed of them.

"Well, there's always Time-Turners," Monday suggested. "For one thing, it's much easier to gain clearance to use them."

"Time-Turners only go back so far though! I need more time! I need to save him!" Lily wailed.

Monday considered this, thinking slowly. "And how do you suppose you will gain entry to the Department of Mysteries?" she asked curiously.

"I…I" Lily stuttered, "You'd help me, that's why!" All of a sudden, she pulled out her wand and pointed it at Monday.

"Mrs Potter, I have to warn you against making quick decisions. Are you sure you really want to do this?" Monday asked, staring apprehensively at Lily's wand tip.

"Yes!" Lily shouted.

Monday set the book she was holding down on Sirius's bedside table. "Have you read this book, Mrs Potter?"

Lily glanced at the title. "No. I haven't." Sirius swiveled slightly to get a better look at it.

Monday drew a breath. "If I am to let you go gallivanting around the passages of Time, you might as well be prepared. Those stories aren't the usual ones covered in Unspeakable training. These ones," she said, fingering the lettering of the title, "are real."

"Oh, yeah?" Lily said defiantly. "How do you document something like time travel anyway? How can you be so sure if it's real?"

"Well," Monday said, a small smile flitting about her face, "One thing that can be said about time-travel is that it can certainly change your perceptions on reality. Look, Mrs Potter," she said, laying an awkward hand on Lily's shoulder, "I think it is too early to be panicking just yet."

"But…" Lily stammered, wiping her eyes, "How will I know if he's safe?"

Monday pondered this for a second, her finger scratching the side of her nose. "Well, you said he was looking for his father, didn't you?"

Lily looked up at her, her eyes widening. "Yeah, I did."

"Well, there's no need to go looking for him, when he's going to come looking for _you_."

"I…I guess not. But what if he can't find us? This place is very secluded. What if I don't hear from him?"

Monday smiled sadly. "That is when you can start panicking."

Lily swallowed, suddenly looking a lot paler than she did before. "Well, that's reassuring, I'd hate to think—" She was interrupted by a loud pecking sound coming from the window. A handsome tawny owl was pecking madly against it, an envelope tied to its leg.

"Oh!" Monday exclaimed, moving towards the window and sliding it open. "The letter, it's addressed to you, Mrs Potter."

"How would someone know I was here?" Lily wondered. "Maybe it's from Remus?"

Monday cast her eye at the envelope, shrugging nonchalantly. "Owls can be fairly smart. If the sender was close by, they'd be able to find you pretty quick." She threw the parchment at Lily. Lily caught it deftly and in one quick motion, ripped it open.

If it was possible, Lily's face grew even paler. "It…no…" She dropped the envelope and its contents onto the floor. She slumped onto Sirius's bed, trembling head to toe. "I knew…I just knew…"

Monday frowned. "Knew what?" she asked, picking up the paper. Lily just shook her head, refusing to even speak. "What's wrong?" Monday repeated.

Lily said nothing.

Monday, grim-lipped, read the note aloud. "_We have your son. A photograph is enclosed as proof. We will avenge the death of the Dark Lord. There is nothing that can be done now_."

Sirius tried to decipher the meaning of these words. His brain was informing him of what they should mean, but he refused to believe what it was telling the truth. After what seemed like an eternity of shocked silence, he croaked, "Damn them!"

"Damn what?" asked a scratchy voice from the bed beside him. Sirius turned and saw James making the same struggling motions that he himself had made when he first had regained consciousness.

Lily, however, seemed not to have heard anything. "Nothing can be done? I'll show them what can be done. They…they think that by capturing Harry…it will make things even?"

Monday licked her lips. "Are you completely sure you want to do this? You know if I'm caught aiding you, I'll lose my job."

Lily's eyes looked frenzied. "You're worried about your _job_? Well, I don't give a damn about your job. Wouldn't you go back to save your child?"

Monday looked as if she had been slapped. In a quiet voice, she whispered, "My daughter is _dead_."

"Well, maybe it doesn't matter to you!" Lily yelled. "It's not as if she's really your daughter, she's just some alternate version you could care less about. It's not the same for me!"

"My mother _died_ trying to save someone by meddling in time. Someone she didn't even know! Don't you think that would teach me the consequences from meddling with time? Because things never get better, you know. Things just _change_ ."

"Well, I don't know about you," Lily said slowly, "But I'd die to save my son."

"You already have," Sirius stated. His limbs felt more energetic than they all he did, he could feel adrenaline rushing through his body. His arms still wobbling slightly, he pushed himself into an upright seating position.

"I…what?" Lily asked, looking slightly disconcerted.

"You saved…saved our world."

"Your world! _Your_ world!" Lily shouted. "I don't care about your world, this is the world I know. You may have had some crazy dream, but that doesn't mean it was real. You took James to Peter's, and that was the last time I saw him alive! It's your fault!" Lily jumped to her feet, her hand clutching her wand tightly.

"I WAS RIGHT!" roared Sirius. He didn't care if it would hurt his throat, he didn't care about anything anymore. All he knew was that Harry had to be saved. His revival from death be damned, he would go back through that veil to save Harry. He leaped upright, but only made it two steps until he collapsed onto James's bed. Sirius saw that his friend's hazel eyes were open, but not fully comprehending.

"It…it's not your fault, Sirius," James said so quietly that Sirius almost didn't hear him.

Lily's attention was drawn to the two men. "James?" she asked.

"Lily?" James replied.

"James…I'm so sorry…I should have never let Harry run away, I should—"

"Shh, Lily, it'll be okay. I'll help you with whatever needs to be done."

Monday's eyes narrowed. "Can you walk?" she asked bluntly.

James's brow furrowed in concentration. After a few moments, he replied regretfully, "I don't think so. I can talk though."

Monday looked at Sirius intensely. "You're doing better than Sirius though, Mr Potter. You certainly reached the talking stage more rapidly."

"I can help!" Sirius shouted. "I'm not just going to sit here and lay waiting for you two to go about saving the world."

Monday drew in a sharp breath. "I am forbidding you to come. You would only be a hindrance."

"You can't tell me what I can and cannot do!" Sirius yelled. He jumped up again for another futile attempt at standing up. He fell back to his bed almost immediately. "I can help!" he repeated.

James looked at Sirius, and he found himself being drawn to his friend's eyes. "She's right, you know. We really can't help."

"That's funny," Sirius muttered sardonically, "I never thought you were the type to give up."

"I'm not giving up. I'm…just being reasonable."

"So…so you don't care that Harry could be being beaten and tortured at the moment, do you? You don't mind that Harry could be i dead /i , do you?"

"No, no, don't you dare say that!" James shouted. "It's just that in my mind, Harry is still a little boy. It's so hard to believe that I'm in the future now. I don't even know what year it is, and I…" James seemed to be quickly running out of breath.

"Well, it's 1996," Monday supplied helpfully.

James inhaled deeply. "He's sixteen then? In the space of a day my little boy has grown fifteen years…"

"He's turning sixteen next month, actually," Lily muttered, "Or would turn, I should really be saying…" Lily looked strangely blank. Turning to Monday, she asked, "How much time do we have?"

Monday blinked. "What do you mean?" she asked.

"Well, we need to save Harry, don't we? How much time do we have?"

"Well, technically, we'll have all the time in the world, if we're going into the past. I think we would do much better to write out a fully detailed plan of action before we rush into anything."

Lily glared. "What good will a 'detailed plan of action' do? We'll never know more, and I don't want to sit around waiting, feeling helpless and useless, I want to do something now!"

"What about Sirius and James? They want to help. Shouldn't you wait until they're feeling better so they can assist us?"

"No, because I don't know how long that will take, and I don't want to have to mourn Harry's death at all if I know there's a chance I can save him!"

"That's true," Monday admitted. "There's always the possibility that if they travel back into the past with us that the timeline will have to recreate their bodies again. Theoretically, however, since it has already recreated them once in this future, I don't think that it will happen again."

"I certainly hope not," Sirius snorted.

Monday turned to Lily. "You know that if we leave without them, they'll probably follow us anyway?"

"She's right. If she leaves with you, I'll just fight my way into the Department of Mysteries, I've done it before," said Sirius.

"Well, if they're going to come anyway, can't we just leave now?" Lily looked fidgety; her hands kept curling into fists. "Lockhart, sorry, I mean, your husband is going to admit you to St Mungo's tomorrow, so we don't have as much time as you'd like to."

"Oh, right," Monday said vaguely. "I forgot about that. I like to think about my 'husband' as little as possible. What about him?" Monday asked, pointing to the bed where Peter lay, peacefully sleeping.

Lily's eyes lingered on the slumbering forming of Pettigrew and barely repelled a shudder. "No," she said in a disgusted voice. "We are not waiting for him."

Monday retrieved her cloak from one of the shiny coat hooks on the wall. "When we leave," she said, looking straight at Sirius, "You will follow?"

"Yes," Sirius said truthfully.

"Well, I suggest you get a rest first, and exercise your limbs a little bit before setting off. If you want to, you can even read some of the stories in the book." She pointed at it.

"But—" Sirius started.

"No buts. I will give you clearance to enter the Department of Mysteries, but I will not let it activate for a few hours." Then she added thoughtfully, "I suppose that not many people will be there now that it is getting dark, but the clearance will make it easier to move about unhindered."

She then turned to look at James. "You will be coming as well."

Mutely, James nodded.

"Well, the same applies to you then."

Lily gathered herself and retrieved her own cloak, putting it over the bright green jumper she was wearing. She fastened the clip. "I guess we're going then," she said, kissing James's forehead and giving Sirius a brief hug.

Monday smiled ironically. "See you two last week," she said in farewell as she headed out the door with Lily.


	8. VII Into the Veil

**Life is But A Dream** _by Lythdan Megend_

_Row, row, row your boat,_

_Gently down the stream._

_Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily,_

_Life is but a dream._

**VIII: Into the Veil**

Monday led Lily out of the house, closing the door behind them. Lily blinked at the sudden darkness of the forest and the overhanging trees. It had been a bright and sunny day when she had arrived at the cabin, hopeful that her husband and his companions would be able to help her. Now she left it, feeling rather more pessimistic.

Was she really ready to take this final leap of faith? Could she be sure that this wasn't some sort of elaborate joke? The proof had been lying in front of her, in Sirius, James and Peter's bodies. She knew they were dead—she had attended their funerals. But she could not dispute that they were undeniably alive now.

How did she know that travelling through the veil wouldn't kill her? She wasn't afraid to die, not really, but if she was dead she wouldn't be able to save Harry. She stumbled after Monday, tripping over the twigs littering the ground.

"How does the veil work?" she asked, nearly falling into a tree. She reached for her wand and pulled it out of her pocket. "_Lumos_!" That was better, now she could actually see where she was going.

Monday looked thoughtful and slowed down a little. "If you pass through the veil you will die."

Lily flinched. "Gee, thanks."

Monday shrugged. "There really wasn't an easy way to put it."

Lily glared. "I told you, I'm ready to die for my son."

"As long as you know what you're getting yourself into. I think we should be able to Apparate from here. Shall we?" She ignited her own wand tip and looked at Lily's tear-tracked face. "We'll need to go to the visitor's entrance, of course."

"Why?" Lily asked, not keen on having any detours on the way to the Department of Mysteries.

"Well," Monday said as she cast the light around the forest clearing, "You don't work at the Ministry."

Lily felt like she was conversing with a brick wall sometimes when she talked to Monday Lockhart. "Well, yes, I know that," she said, flustered.

"It's protocol for visitors to the Ministry to approach using the visitor's entrance," Monday informed her smiling.

Taking in a deep breath, Lily looked at the stars, resisting the urge to Apparate to the Ministry straight away. "Damn protocol!" she hissed. "I—"

Monday shook her head. "It would not help Harry to be caught up in matters of bureaucracy now."

Lily whirled around, so her ignited wand pointed directly at Monday's eyes. Monday took a step backwards and nearly tripped over a tree root, her eyes squinting in that harsh light. "Watch where you point that thing!" she yelled.

However, the direction Lily's wand was pointing in did not seem to be an accident. "Don't you dare try and use Harry to make me do what you want me to do!" she shouted back, her voice louder. The wand shook in her hand, and she was half scared that she was about to lose control.

Monday looked apprehensively at the wand pointed at her face. "I'm trying to _help_ you."

"Why _should_ you help me? You don't even _know _me!" She took a few giant paces away from Monday and tripped over a tree root, falling flat on her face. Monday walked over to her.

"Need a hand?" Monday asked sardonically. Lily grudgingly accepted as she allowed herself to be hauled up by Monday. "See, where would you be without my help?" asked Monday.

Lily glowered. "I was perfectly able to stand up on my own, you know."

"And yet, you chose not to."

"But—what—I…" Lily spluttered. "You were offering help!"

"As I am doing now. Without my help you will never transcend the bowels of the Department of Mysteries. What chance will there be of saving your son then?"

Bristling, Lily replied, "But you don't care, do you? You don't care that my son is lying tortured…dying somewhere…"

"I don't care, you're right," Monday said agreeably. Lily's eyebrows shot up at this statement. "But I'm still offering you my help. You know what? I actually care more about the continuity of the timeline than your son, but I think this is the right thing to do."

"Well," Lily said, leaning against a creaking tree, "I'm glad that you decided saving someone's life is _the right thing to do_."

Monday looked up at the stars as Lily had done before. "I wonder," she said softly, so Lily had to strain to hear, "What would happen if we didn't do anything at all?"

Lily wasn't quite sure of what she was hearing. "What do you mean? Harry would die, that's what would happen! I thought we were going!" she said angrily, kicking out at the tree, which creaked and groaned some more. An owl hooted despairingly at Lily as the tree's branches rattled.

"But you see, what would happen if this...never happened?"

"Why are you wasting time asking questions about hypothetical situations? It did—I mean, it is happening, right now!"

Monday looked at Lily, a slightly anxious look taking hold of her face. "Are you…quite sure that this is happening?"

Lily kicked out at the tree again, and yelled out as she stubbed her toe on the trunk. "Can you stub your toe in dreams?" she asked patronisingly.

"Yes," Monday replied, "And I think that this is a dream."

Lily turned on the spot, and Monday had a sinking feeling that she knew what Lily was about to do. "Well, maybe you should try waking up then!" With a crack, Lily Disapparated.

Monday sighed. Things were not going out the way she had planned at all. The more people that travelled into the Realm of Dreams, the more polluted the time-stream was going to get. She wouldn't be surprised if it the River of Time became so distorted that it was forced to fork off and cause an alternate reality. She wouldn't be surprised if it had already. Time-travel was meant to only be used in a controlled environment, it was not meant to be used as a tool to corrupt the way the universe worked. She needed this reality to dry out, so when she returned to the Realm there was no more water running in this stream. And she also needed to get rid of the veil. It had stood in the Ministry of Magic for centuries, unable to be removed, and no-one had figured out its mysteries any better than she had—apart from her mother.

The problem with the Veil, Monday mused, is that there were only limited chances. The whole dying thing wasn't particularly pleasant either and it wasn't a very logical place. It was hard to tell exactly what moment you would turn up in and where your body would be at that time. Her mother had been trying to develop a way that the Realm of Dreams could be accessed on the side of the Living, without the unnecessary sacrifice of death. However, it had soon been revealed that the only way to enter the Realm of Dreams on the Living side was to dream your way there, which was very uncontrolled and there was a miniscule chance of being able to enter time. Not that it had stopped her mother from trying—and dying.

The mystery of the Realm had intrigued Monday too for many years, and she too had died for it. It was looking quite likely that the only way to travel in the Realm of Dreams was to pass through the Veil. She had died trying to use some experimental charm which she was almost certain would allow her to enter the Realm. It did, except that she was on the side of the dead. Fear of wasting her chances kept her confined to the riverbank, as did fear of water. She had not lied to Sirius, but she wondered if he would ever know that the person she had seen drown when she had only been twelve was him…

After what must have been five or six years trapped in the Realm, she had drawn to the conclusion that those who said time was not to be tampered with were right, as no matter how horrible reality could be, creating a paradox was much worse. A big enough paradox could hypothetically end the world, which was a scary thought.

Sighing as she cast her wand light around the abandoned clearing once more, she thought that she'd better follow Mrs Potter to the Department of Mysteries. It was possible that Lily would try to force her way in before Monday arrived there and having Lily thrown into Azkaban for attempted trespass could be detrimental to her son's wellbeing. Whirling around on the spot, she Apparated to the Ministry of Magic.

She opened her eyes and tried to regain her balance—Apparation never agreed with her—she looked around for Lily. She did not have to look very far, as she saw Lily hand her wand to the watchwizard for examining. He had finished his testing and had handed the wand back to Lily by the time Monday reached her.

"Good evening, Eddie," she said, casting a glance out the enchanted window. "Why is there sun streaming in?" she asked, staring at a ray that illuminated the floor.

Eddie shrugged. "Magical Maintenance must have received a pay rise. I wish I could get a pay rise." He sighed, absent-mindedly stroking his Secrecy Sensor. "I suppose you're escorting Mrs Potter down to the Department of Mysteries?" he asked, his eyebrows knotting together. "That's what she told me."

"Yes, I will be doing just that," Monday confirmed for him as she and Lily began to walk away.

"See you tomorrow then, Mrs Lockhart," Eddie called out.

"Yes, I suppose I will," Monday replied, knowing that in her heart seeing anything of the Ministry of Magic would be very unlikely indeed.

"So, where do we go from here?" Lily asked, eyes roaming around. She had not been to the Ministry at night time very often, and the quiet frightened her.

"The Department of Mysteries, of course," Monday answered, motioning at Lily to follow her into the elevator. Monday pressed a button, but Lily did not see what it was. Instead, Lily stared blankly at the wall while they began their descent downwards into the bowels of the Ministry. A few half hearted memos flittered around. Lily guessed there were still people working late tonight.

"Department of Mysteries, Level Nine," the smooth, amplified voice filled the elevator.

"Let's go," Monday said as she and Lily stepped out in the elevator. They passed the outer door and Lily was starting to have the unsettling feeling of dread creep into her heart. She hated the spinning room and—the room spun, disallowing her from finishing her thought. Monday kept her wand out, seemingly keeping track of the directions in which the doors rotated. "In here," she motioned, holding the door open for Lily, who was feeling a bit nauseous. She didn't feel as if her nausea could be fully attributed to the spinning room either.

They seemed to be on top of a large number of steps; Lily had never seen this room before. The stairs led to a central viewing area. "Is this it?" Lily asked, her knees starting to shake beneath her. She hoped that they did not give way now. Monday nodded and they walked together to the dais. A crumbling archway stood there and an seemingly innocent curtain fluttered. Lily looked around, frowning. "There's no breeze."

Monday didn't say a thing, but reached out a tentative hand towards the material. When it came too close, she drew her hand back quickly. Looking back up to Lily, who seemed to be shaking all over, she asked again, "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Positive," Lily said determinedly. As she gazed at the veil, an almost frenzied look came up in her eyes.

"Are you sure that you don't want to wait for James and Sirius to catch up?" Monday asked, not certain why she was trying to dissuade Lily from entering the veil, although altering the streams of time seemed like a very good reason.

"They'll catch up, won't they?" Lily said stubbornly. "If they go back to the same time as us, we'll meet up in the past, wouldn't we?"

Monday looked contemplative as her eyes roamed around the steps. "There may be a small problem with that," she admitted.

"Which is?" Lily asked, not liking this hitch in the plan.

"Well, the time-travel is not very exact. It's not like using a time-turner where a specific number of turns brings you back to a certain point. When you are on the stream, you can't tell what year it is you're next to. It's very much an estimate."

Lily closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. When she opened them again, she fought to keep her voice calm. "Estimate or not, I know I will regret it greatly if I never try."

Monday smiled sadly. "I'd thought you'd say that."

"What are we waiting for?" Lily queried, an impatient tone now creeping into her voice.

Monday's eyes remained fixed to the door. "Well, you're not waiting for anyone. I'm waiting for James."

"What?" Lily said, shocked. "But I thought you were going to help me! How will I find my way in this…thing," her eyes viewed the veil in distaste, "if you are not going to guide me through it?"

"I'll come to help you," Monday promised, "Eventually. But I have to wait for him as I have to stop him from helping—I—I just thought of something…if James tries to go through the veil, he will die." In response to the questioning looking she received from Lily, she amended, "He will not be able to use the stream, he will…move on."

Lily's eyes widened. "But…what happened to the three chances? Do you only receive them if you originally die by passing through the veil?" Lily shuddered at the word die, not knowing if she was going to do what she was about to do, but knowing that she would have to do it anyway.

"Essentially, yes, that is correct," Monday said, confirming Lily's thoughts. "You can go on ahead if you'd like, the Realm is a strange and confusing place and by the time that you orient yourself we'll have caught up.

"Is it as disorientating as the spinning room?" Lily asked, referring to the first room that lead to the Department of Mysteries.

Monday tried to smile reassuringly, but her facial muscles only managed to rearrange themselves in a grimace. "Oh no. It's much worse. Are you very sure that you want do this?"

Looking at the floor, Lily nodded. "I have to do this. For Harry's sake—otherwise, who knows what would happen?"

Thankfully, Monday managed to resist the temptation to point some things out to Lily. If everything worked out well this evening, she would manage to ascertain that this situation never happened at all and that this branch of the stream could dry out forever. "I understand," Monday told Lily, but she didn't—not really. This world, for all its familiarity, still seemed strange and foreign. It was as if she was watching a memory in a Pensieve, she did not feel involved in the action at all. For other people—she stole a guilty look at Lily—this was the real world, and people like Monday were nutters, but it was just so strange…so weird.

It just made her feel more opposed to the changing of time. But this would be her only chance to fix things, for now at the very least. She'd be able to clean up the mess that Sirius Black had left behind, but she couldn't stop other people from falling in the veil. If only she could destroy the veil! But that wouldn't help much. Not only was she in an altered timeline, destroying the veil would not destroy the Realm. She could only hope that if anyone else slipped behind the curtain that they would not be able to find their way around the stream and become trapped in the Realm forever, much in the way that Severus Snape had been. Of course, in Snape's case it was not permanent because in the right time-line Snape would not have died in 1981.

"Can I go?" Lily asked, wishing that her heart would stop thumping dreadfully loud in her chest.

Monday held up her empty hands. "Go ahead; I'm not going to stop you."

Turning her head to give Monday one last thankful look, Lily shut her eyes. For what could have been a few seconds, or a few minutes she simply stood in front of the archway, willing her limbs to let her to walk through. It all seemed so deceiving; she couldn't believe that she would not re-emerge on the other side. Her head spun painfully and she wondered why she felt disoriented, she hadn't even gone through the veil yet.

_The veil_. It fluttered tauntingly, seemingly out of her reach. But she knew that just one small step would have her plunging into a place that she could have never imagined. Hoping—praying—that she was doing the right thing, Lily walked into the veil.


End file.
